


How to Hookup on Vacation by Leslie Knope

by bookworm03



Category: Parks and Recreation
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Sex, Vacation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-26
Updated: 2015-12-28
Packaged: 2018-05-03 11:09:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 52,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5288468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bookworm03/pseuds/bookworm03
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Leslie Knope's not that great at casual sex, but she's got a plan in place to ensure success this time around.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue/The Rules

**Author's Note:**

> Post-sex with Mark AU. Leslie's in her early-30s and struggling to move beyond their one night stand, so a fed-up Ann drags her to the beach to help her shake it off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Thanksgiving, Americans! Thought I'd post a little teaser while I prepare for the actual fun stuff to start. This was an idea I had a while ago that's finally sort of coming together. 
> 
> Comments/kudos will always make my day so please take 30 seconds to leave them if you can! Hope you enjoy!

Ann Perkins was glowing and they hadn’t even left Indiana yet. Her bronzed skin was flushed with excitement, her hair was braided loosely and her face was smoothed, relaxed. She was already on Chapter Three of whatever romance novel she had picked up on their way to the airport. 

“Put it away,” Ann murmured, eyes never leaving her page. Leslie stared at the binder in her lap and bit her lip. _How to Hookup on Vacation_ was emblazoned across the front with a drawing of a sandy beach, orange umbrella, a sun wearing sunglasses and a crystal blue ocean. A fruity drink and several condoms were floating in the periphery… 

Okay, it wasn’t her best work, but it had been impromptu! After months of frustration surrounding what had happened with Mark and his lack of response to their night together, Ann had declared herself sick and tired of Leslie's pining. They were going on a vacation and she was going to have some fun. 

And apparently vacation fun entailed hooking up. 

So, after consultation with Ann and a few offhand comments from Donna while she was working, Leslie had compiled a vacation hookup idea binder, that included various possible scenarios and types of gentlemen that would be appropriate for this type of endeavor.

And, most importantly, there was an extensive list of rules: 

**Rules for a Vacation Hookup**

1\. Pick someone hot you can stand but don’t actually like as a person.  
2\. You’re not dating them, you’re fucking them.  
3\. What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas.  
4\. Don’t talk about Mark.  
5\. Don’t think about sex with Mark or Mark avoiding you or anything related to Mark .  
6\. Don’t do missionary too much.  
7\. Take turns being on top.  
8\. Doggy style - DO IT!!!  
9\. Shower sex - TRY IT!!!  
10\. BE LOUD (it’s sexy!)  
11\. DEMAND (or ask nicely) he goes down on you.  
12\. Don’t feel weird about anything (GET YOURS!).  
13\. Have sex somewhere public (ie: The pool, the beach, a golf cart, etc.).  
14\. No historical role play.  
15\. No hats. No fingerless gloves. No cargo pants.  
16\. Avoid excessive cuddling.  
17\. Tie him up/blindfold him (???).  
18\. Do not talk about: feminist icons, parks projects, idea binders, the national debt, birdhouses, political biographies or Mark. (DO NOT TALK ABOUT MARK!)  
19\. Do NOT fall for anyone.  
20\. HAVE FUN!!!

“Leslie,” Ann closes the binder for her. “Relax, okay? That’s what this is for - to have fun and think about something besides stupid Mark. You don’t have to hookup with anyone. Please stop stressing about this.” 

Stressing? Did Ann know her at all? Leslie wasn’t stressing, she was focusing, preparing, studying and trying to be a good student. She could do this, totally. She could meet a cute guy, flirt with him, have crazy awesome sex with him for the duration of their trip, and come back refreshed and over Mark. 

And if not, she’ll fill a few more idea binders, drink a lot of sugary beverages, read a variety of political thrillers and spend some amazing time with her best friend in the entire world, Ann Perkins. 

And it was only a week. She could survive a week without work, and she could certainly survive a week without thinking about Mark. 

It would be great, awesome, fantastic, wonderful. 

She couldn’t totally do this.

Totally. 

Sort of.


	2. Rule 5: Don't Think About Mark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading and commenting! I love you all so much I'm posting this on the fly out of town! 
> 
> Happy Black Friday !

“Uh, are you wearing that?” 

Leslie looked up from under her newly purchased straw hat and sunglasses. Okay, maybe her cover-up was a little long, but everything was a little long on her. And sure, maybe it had sleeves that were unnecessary, and maybe the pattern was a little...resembled drapes that were in grandmother’s house up until the day she died, but she wasn’t going to the pool to be objectified. She was going to the pool to relax and read a new political thriller and listen to some Sarah McLachlan and if there _happened_ to be a cute guy that met her vacation hookup criteria she would flirt with him, wow him with her personality, and have casual sex with him and maybe even dabble in some light bondage like Donna had suggested…

Okay, maybe not the bondage thing. 

Plus, it was their first day. She was just scouting the terrain, familiarizing herself with the fellow vacation goer options. She didn’t have to find a guy right this minute. 

Ann, the beautiful, effervescent, exotic, tree shark, had a sarong tied loosely around her hips, revealing her already perfectly tanned abdomen and sporting a purple bikini. And her bottoms probably weren’t skirted like Leslie’s. Her toes were painted bright orange. 

“Tell me you’re not wearing that one piece with the skirt - ”

“It’s cute! It’s comfy and I’m not going to be obj - ”

“Objectified by men, yes, you’ve said that about fourteen times since our plane landed. That doesn’t mean you can’t wear that cute bathing suit we found at the mall.” 

“I’ll _burn_ ” she whined. God, not everyone had perpetually sun kissed skin, Ann. Some people were pale and freckled and turned pink and fleshy. 

“That’s what sunscreen and shade is for, and I have another cover up you can wear,” Ann offered gently, reaching into the overflowing drawer Leslie had claimed and carefully removing the tags from the new bikini. It had red and white polka dots and okay, it was totally cute. Way cuter than the one she was wearing and so, she’d just put a lot of lotion on and forget about being objectified because if it made _her_ feel good she should wear it and not spare any thoughts for what a man might think. No guy on that beach was worried about her ogling him in a speedo or swim trunks or whatever; they’d just wear what they liked and felt good in and she should do the same. 

Boom. Feminism. 

“Okay,” Leslie relented. “I’ll change.” 

Ann tossed a much shorter black cover up with no sleeves at her, depositing herself on the end of the bed while Leslie went into the bathroom. 

Lathered in lotion, back in her hat, and armed with her book and her mp3 player, Leslie squared her shoulders and followed Ann dutifully out into the hot Caribbean sun. 

***** 

“How’s your book?” Ann leaned over the lounge chair. She’d taken off her sarong and had been lying in the sun for the better part of the last half hour. 

“Great. Riveting,” Leslie beamed. Ann sat up and cracked her neck. 

“I’m gonna go cool off in the pool. Maybe get a drink. You should come too; you must be hot.” 

Leslie was hot, but she really hadn’t wanted to take off her cover up and lie there half naked reading her book. It didn’t seem right. The pool was a better solution. 

“Come swim with me,” Ann poked her. “There’s a swim up bar and some cute guys playing volleyball and you can flirt a little…it’ll be fun! A new guy is the best way to get over Mark.” 

Leslie bristled at the mention, ignoring the little throb of desire in the pit of her stomach. She was picturing his wavy, coiffed hair and his eyes that always seemed gentle, if a little vacant. Ugh, this wasn’t working - she was still thinking about Mark. 

It was just…he kept sending her _so many_ mixed signals. 

“I am over it,” she lied. “It’s been months since…” 

“Since you got drunk together, had sex and never talked about it?” 

_Yes. That._

“And you haven’t even tried to meet anyone else since. You need a rebound. Have some fun here, never see them again.” 

Leslie folded her legs beneath her and surveyed the pool. Most of the guys looked quite young, but there were a few over thirty, or at least close to it. She’d never really been one to go for “hard bodies” though; that was more Ann’s type, while Leslie was more into…

Well, nothing. She didn’t have a pattern. Geeky intellectual if she really squinted, maybe, but nothing definable. Which was good, she thought. She judged on personality, not whether they fit into a little box she’d created in her mind. 

But she wasn’t looking for a boyfriend, she was looking for someone to have sex with. Maybe hard body was the way to go. Maybe one of those guys playing volleyball was really awesome at making out and they could do it all over the resort and in the ocean and then, after several days and a few casual dinners, they could have safe, consensual, vacation sex. They could follow her list of recommended activities…including him eating her out, shower sex _and_ doggy style. 

See? She could let loose. 

Ugh, she was definitely going to break something during shower sex, wasn’t she? Maybe that one should get pushed to the bottom of the list… 

“Off,” Ann commanded at the cover-up. “Your book will be there in an hour, enjoy the pool and we’ll get a daiquiri and just…maybe talk to some people.” 

“Oh!” Leslie erupted suddenly. “I forgot to tell you. There’s a sandcastle building competition tomorrow and I think we could totally win. We just have to sign up at the front desk - ”

“Leslie, that’s for children.” 

“What? Are you sure - ”

“Yes. Get in the pool and drink alcohol with me. You’re on vacation.” 

“Oh…” Well that was kind of a bummer. Why didn’t they have sandcastle building competitions for adults? They could have children’s divisions by age group and an adult division and the prizes could be different…how hard would it be to get the name of the person in charge of recreational activities, she wondered.

“Leslie, no,” Ann grabbed her hand and tossed her book at the foot of the chair. 

“I see your brain spinning. No work. Take it off,” Ann helped her out of the cover-up and some oily, buff bodied 20-something hollered at them to _take it all off and then make out a little_. 

Leslie almost shouted that tragically they were both heterosexual, but Ann shot her a look that said “ignore him”. Ann Perkins was so practical. Down to her bikini and sunglasses, Leslie followed obediently as she was led to the steps of the swim up bar. 

Okay, she had to admit it was nice. The water was clear and the perfect temperature and by the time she pushed her way over to the bar Ann was already ordering her a strawberry daiquiri and flashing her a grin. Leslie accepted it happily, offering Ann her wedge of pineapple and taking a hearty sip, groaning at the way the cool liquid slid down her throat as the sun beat on her shoulders and neck. 

Even from behind her sunglasses, Leslie could tell Ann’s gaze had fixated back on the volleyball game. Particularly on one guy in blue and orange shorts who was lean without being overtly ripped and jumped higher than everyone to spike a ball over the net. He then flashed a perfect, toothy smile and high-fived his team while calling “Amazing effort!” to the opponent. 

“Cute guy alert,” Ann muttered low in her ear. Leslie sipped thoughtfully, watching her best friend’s perfect mouth twist as she studied this person. They would have beautiful babies, that was for certain. And objectively, he was very good looking. Ann should hit that. 

“You should talk to him and then go for a romantic walk on the beach holding hands and then take him out to dinner and exchange room numbers.” 

Ann pursed her lips together. “We’re only here for a week,” she reminded Leslie. “I should just fuck him.” 

Right. Casual sex. Casual sex. Not a boyfriend, not emotional attachment. The exact opposite of Mark. _Successful_ casual sex, that’s what she was here for. 

Ugh, too bad everything was so complicated with Mark and they couldn’t stop obsessing over the issue and avoiding each other and…

Okay, that might be an exaggeration. Maybe she couldn’t stop thinking about it, but Mark was fine. He was dating a sporty, leggy, 20-something blonde he met when he came out to support one of her events at Harvey James Park. 

But he came out to support _her_ and the Parks Department and that had to count for something, right? You don't come to an event for department you don’t work for if you don’t secretly have feelings for someone in that department and are entertaining the idea that maybe, possibly, someday you could actually date or something - 

“Yeah,” Ann interrupted her stream of consciousness, slurping her drink. “I’m hitting that…Unless you want him?”

“No, no,” Leslie smiled with gentle enthusiasm and patted Ann’s arm, leaning back against the bar, water lapping over her hips as the game continued in front of them. “I’ll…get the next one.” 

What the hell did that even mean? God, casual vacation sex was so strange. 

***** 

Ann Perkins was a beautiful starfish and she was nailing this vacation hookup thing. After the game had ended she’d waded over to the guy she’d been eyeing, introducing herself with a gentle-but-firm handshake and told him he played great. And five minutes later they were both in the pool, at the bar sipping drinks. The perfect smile had never left his face and Leslie overheard him tell Ann she was _breathtaking_. God, the things you could accomplish by being as beautiful as Ann Perkins. No wonder Leslie needed a binder. 

She had finished her second daiquiri and, since Ann was otherwise occupied, was considering returning to the shade and her book, when she caught a guy in dark sunglasses with pale skin and skinny legs leaning over her stuff. 

Leslie was gone in a flash - well as much as a flash as she could be wading through water that was four feet deep - pushing herself up onto the steps and briskly walking over to their area. 

“Hey!” she snapped. The guy seemed tall-ish, but then, so did most guys compared to her. It was hard to judge. He was definitely skinny and was wearing a white t-shirt with a stupid band she’d never heard of on it, paired with his red bathing suit. 

“That's my stuff!” 

“Oh,” he glanced up, shifting awkwardly on the balls of his feet and giving a little shrug. “Sorry, I just saw your book.” 

He gestured to the political thriller still sitting on her chair and straightened to face her, head tilting slightly as he clearly took her in. Crap on a cracker, how was she supposed to be assertive dripping wet in a polka dot bikini. This was why one pieces were more sensible. 

Also, what was going on with this guy’s hair? Why was there so much of it and why was it sticking out at so many angles? Was it always that messy? Didn’t he have a wife or a girlfriend to push it down for him? He should. You couldn’t go into an office like that, that was just unprofessional. He should get a haircut. 

Was it soft? It looked soft. 

“Any good?” 

“What?” Leslie blinked, realizing he’d been talking to her and she’d been caught up in thoughts about his hair.

“Your book. Is it any good?” 

“Oh,” she pursed her lips. “It’s pretty good. It’s a political thriller; they’re my favourite. I have a bunch in my room to get through this week.” 

“Cool,” he clucked his tongue. “Well uh, sorry to make it seem like I was stealing your stuff.” 

“It’s okay,” she jumped in quickly. “I’m sorry I yelled at you.” 

His cute mouth twitched into a smirk. 

Crap, why was she calling his mouth cute? That wasn't supposed to happen. Come on brain, get it together. 

So, he had a cute mouth and cute, probably soft hair. So what. He was a rude jerk who just helped himself to people’s stuff. 

“Well, nice to meet you, uh - ”

“Leslie Knope,” she stuck out her hand quickly and the smirk returned. Should she have given him her last name? What if he was a serial killer who preyed on unsuspecting tourists by feigning an interest in their reading materials? 

“Ben. Wyatt.” he looked amused. Why did he look so damned amused? Shaking hands was professional. What else was she supposed to do? Flash her boobs because she’d had two daiquiris? Where did he think they were? Europe? He shook back firmly, bending over the chair and offering her a towel. She accepted it, wrapping around herself. 

“See you around, I guess.” 

“Sure, yes, possibly, maybe.” 

Still amused. Jerk. What a mean jerk, he was totally laughing at her. Her cheeks grew hot and stayed that way as Ben Wyatt and his stupid smirk and messy hair gave her a little nod and headed back across to the other side of the pool. 

***** 

“His name is Chris and he works for the state based out of Indianapolis,” Ann explained happily as Leslie picked at a plate of french fries and did her best to stop thinking about a stupid jerk in dark Ray Bans with a cute mouth and hair. 

“What are the odds, right?” 

“Doing what?” 

“Auditing. He goes with his partner into towns with financial problems all over Indiana and they do stuff to the budget or something.” 

“That's nice,” Leslie nibbled on another fry and Ann frowned. 

“That’s _nice_? You think someone who works auditing local government has a nice job?” 

Leslie blushed at her automatic response. Okay, no, that didn’t sound nice, that sounded like the worst job in the world. 

“You’re thinking about Mark again, aren’t you?” 

“No! I'm not. Honestly!” 

Ann ate a fry of her own, crossing her legs and twisting to face Leslie fully. 

“What’s up? You seem distracted.” 

“I’m not! I’m just…thinking about my book.” 

“Les…” 

She couldn’t tell Ann she was fixating on Mr. Wyatt and his stupid face. Also, why was his name triggering something in his brain? 

_Ben Wyatt, Benjamin Wyatt, Mr. Ben Wyatt_ …nope, whatever it was wasn’t sticking. 

“I’m thinking about Mark,” she sighed reluctantly. “I can’t help it.” 

It was sort of…a half truth? She was thinking about someone else which she was trying to do to avoid thinking about Mark, so in a way she was thinking about Mark, and Ann wouldn’t ask her about why she was …

Whatever, it would buy her some time. 

“Serious question.” 

“Okay?” 

“Was Mark _really_ the best you’ve ever had?” 

“Yes,” she was adamant about this. It was good. Great. The best she’d ever had. Most guys liked to make her do the work and Mark had totally taken control, which was hot.

“Why though? Did you come?” 

Leslie hit her beautiful best friend lightly. “Ann!” 

“It’s not… _Did you_? Orgasm?” 

“No,” she gulped at the look on Ann’s face. “But I was tired and drunk and I don’t usually from sex anyway. But it can still be nice if you don’t orgasm.” 

She was fairly certain she’d read that in Cosmo or Reader’s Digest or something. Orgasms during sex were overrated. She could give herself orgasms and fixating on getting there made the rest of it unenjoyable. 

She’d _definitely_ read that in Cosmo. 

“So, Les, what was so great about it?” 

She tried to explain. She detailed how Mark’s hands were big and had been everywhere on her body all at once. Cupping things, putting her where he wanted her and making sure she didn’t think too hard. How he didn’t waste too much time kissing and got right to the main event before they were both too tired to continue. How he seemed to know exactly the best way to have a drunk sex where it didn’t feel ridiculous or gut-wrenching… 

Okay, in the morning when she’d woken up to a cold bed it had been gut wrenching, but in the moment it hadn’t been and that was nice. 

“Seriously, we need to get you laid,” Ann declared abruptly. “That’s…That should not be the best sex you’ve ever had. Either you’re building it up way too much in your head or your sex life is…” Ann’s freckled nose crinkled. “We need to find you someone.” 

She didn’t want to find anyone. She wanted to let Mark keep being the best she’d ever had whether she’d built it up in her head or not. It made it significant - her one night with him - and she wanted to keep that. That mattered somehow. 

Also, so much for not talking about or thinking about Mark, _Ann_.


	3. Rule 1: Pick Someone You Can Stand but Don't Actually Like as a Person

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for everyone who read and left comments/kudos. I truly appreciate you taking the time to do so. 
> 
> Things actually start to get going a bit in this chapter, so I hope you enjoy!

It was day two and they’d ended up at the beach, under a big umbrella people watching and running in and out of the ocean. Leslie hadn’t thought about anyone with stupid messy brown hair or sunglasses to nowhere or a feigned love of political thrillers. Instead, she’d listened to Ann gush a bit more about Chris (who she’d gone for a jog on the beach with that morning, yuck,), and reviewed her vacation hookup criteria twice before bed so she could be prepared to get the ball rolling. There were lots of cute guys on this beach and one of them was going to bone her before the week was up and she wasn’t going to think too hard about it. 

Also, between the sun and the alcohol she was possibly tipsy, as was Ann. Currently found herself at the bar getting another round and psyching herself up to select a candidate. 

“Excuuuuuse me, sir, good sir, I would like another one of these delicious,” she slurped the dregs of her pina colada and pouted when the bartender spun around without noticing her. The bar was annoyingly high and all the seats were taken. Leslie stretched on tip toe and had half a mind to hoist herself up onto the wood just to get noticed. She’s short but, like most short people, she’s resourceful - 

“Leslie Knope,” a drawl, cocky voice cut through the festive island music playing around them. She spun in time to see a pair of Ray Bans and a smirky face coming up beside her. 

“Oh,” she set her empty glass down. “Hi.” 

“Do you need a boost?” his lips twitched with amusement and Leslie hit him because she’d clearly been itching to. He was wearing another stupid t-shirt today with _Han Shot First_ superimposed over an image of the Millennium Falcon. Ugh, nerd. 

“I’m - “

“I remember you, you're a jerk” she scowled, wishing she didn’t. She wished she could smoothly deny having ever interacted with Ben Wyatt, because even with hidden eyes he seemed a little too pleased when she admitted that. “And I was here first, so don’t think you can cut in line just because - ”

Ben rapped the bar with annoying suaveness and gave a little wave at the bartender. A few seconds later a stocky man with closely cropped hair was standing in front of them. 

“Yes, sir, what can I get you?” 

“Uhh,” he glanced down at her and held out a hand. “You were first.” 

Yes. Yes she was first. 

“I would like one more of these, please. Also, your bar is too high.” 

The bartender gave her a funny look and then turned to Ben. Well it _was_ too high; she was short but there were plenty of people who weren’t children that were just as short or shorter than she was. 

“And a Miller Lite, thanks.” 

“That’s boring,” she called. “You’re boring.” 

If he took off his stupid sunglasses she’d be able to tell what colour his annoying eyes were and if he was rolling them.

“I like it,” he clucked his tongue. “How’s your book - ”

“Do you even have eyes?” 

“Excuse me?” 

“All you do is wear stupid sunglasses. Maybe you don’t even have eyes!” 

Ben sighed, irritation evident just based on the way his brow was creased. 

 “You know, drunk girls yelling at me about not having eyes is not how I wanted to spend my vacation. Is there a reason you hate me or something?” 

 “You…tried to steal my book!” 

“Didn’t we go through this, already? I said I was just curious, you shook my hand - ring any bells?” 

The anger in her veins started to ebb away at his resigned, slightly irritated tone, because it’s _possible_ she might be yelling at him for no reason. And also that she might be drunk. 

“Hey,” he rested his elbows on the bar and leaned down a little. “Is your friend the one in the purple bikini?” 

Her stomach dropped for no reason. Everyone loved Ann Perkins. Everyone wanted to get with Ann Perkins. Obviously, that was why smug ass was talking to her at all. 

“Yes. But she’s got a thing going on already and he’s objectively handsome and she's really into him so don’t waste your - ”

“The objectively handsome specimen she’s into is my partner,” he winced when he swallowed. “ _Business_ partner. I really need to clarify that better…not that there’s anything…I just like women, so I wouldn’t want that to be miscommunicated…” his eyes were still hidden, but his cheeks were definitely turning red. 

“It’s a new thing, I haven’t had a partner before.” 

“Oh,” she side-stepped the work talk because it was vacation and she remembered the rules. Not that the rules applied to stupid smirky-faced jerks. “And you like her too or something - ?”

“ _No_. Not…I’m sure she’s nice, Chris said she is. He thinks everyone’s lovely but…anyway whatever…” he takes another sip of his beer. “I was just asking. Six degrees of separation type…deal. Making conversation. Forget it.” 

“Wait,” Leslie smacked him. “You work for the state government!?” 

“Yeah,” he shifts. “One of them. I’m a budget specialist.” 

“Indiana, right?!” She squawked. “I’m from Indiana! What are the odds!?” 

Ben’s mouth - dammit, it was cute again - pursed carefully, and it appeared he was biting the inside of his cheek. Fuck, he was still cute in a messy, unkempt, inappropriate way. 

Also there was _no chance_ he got away with that hair working for the great state of Indiana. No way, sir. 

“Uh, assuming you were American, about one in fifty or two percent.”

Smart ass. 

“Are you a numbers robot?” she retorted. 

“I do like a good spreadsheet,” he twisted to face her with what was almost a grin. “What do you do?” 

“I am the Deputy Director of the Parks and Recreation Department for the best town in America - Pawnee.” 

His smile softened imperceptibly and it made something stir in her stomach. Crap on a crayfish, she should stop drinking probably. 

“Don’t bankrupt your town, you might get stuck with me gutting your department with a machete.”

“You’re proud of that?” 

He shrugged noncommittally. “I like numbers. I like fixing problems with numbers. Figuring out where there are redundancies.” 

“That seems depressing.” 

“It’s not,” he retorted with a snappiness that surprised her. “It’s simple. Numbers are simple. Numbers don’t get their feelings hurt or take it personally or…” he kind of threw his hands in the air. “Whatever. It’s not depressing. People are depressing.” 

“When you fire them due to budget cuts?” 

“Don’t fuck up your budget and you won’t get fired,” he practically snarled that. “Don’t fuck up your budget and you won’t get stuck with me.” 

“You don’t have to be such a jerk about it.” 

“I’m a jerk because I do the job I’m supposed to do?” 

“You’re a jerk because you don’t care if people lose their jobs so you can do yours! Governments are about more than just cuts and the budgets. They’re about providing a service for people and doing some good in the community - ”

“Here’s a hint," he set his bottle down. "Nobody gives a shit what services you provide. Nobody will ever appreciate how hard you work to put out those programs, or - ”

“That is _not_ true,” the corners of her eyes had started to prickle and a lump rose in her throat. “That is absolutely not true, people do care.” 

“No, they really don’t. A lot of people don’t even care enough to vote in federal elections and you think they care about local government - ”

“In my town they do! And providing services is important - ”

“Bankrupting a community doesn’t do it any good, Leslie,” he spat, with a flourish of a hand. Leslie’s nostrils were flaring, the prickling in her eyes turning to stinging. Ben’s dark sunglasses seemed to fixate on her and that, more than anything else, riled her up. 

“Do you even have eyes under there?” she asked again. 

Ben snorted. 

“You just keep your sunglasses on so nobody knows what you’re thinking or something?” 

“Uh,” he glanced around. “We’re at the beach. It’s sunny. Just because you don’t like what I do for a living - whoa!’ 

Leslie didn’t have an answer so instead she reached for his glasses and plucked them off his face. Ben Wyatt jolted in surprise as she shoved the sunglasses over her own nose. 

“There. How do you like it.” 

Shit, his eyes were nice. Dark brown, warm and crinkling at the corners. His hair flopped over them and her fingers twitched with a need to push it back, but he did it first and gave a little half-shrug. 

“Well?” 

“Well,” she squares her shoulders. “Now I know what you’re thinking and you can't tell what I am…Check and mate.” 

His stupid mouth twisted again as the bartender returned with their drinks. He offered her her pina colada and took a sip of his fresh Miller Lite. 

“What am I thinking?” 

“You’re thinking…” she licked her lips. “Your life is sad and depressing and that’s why you keep making fun of me for caring about stuff. And you’re thinking - ”

“Your eyes are pretty and now I can’t see them.” 

It was stupid and cheesy and made her throat dry. Ben fished a dollar out of his pocket and stuck it in the tip jar. Leslie didn’t protest when he took his sunglasses off her nose. 

“I guess…see you…maybe…” 

She had nothing to say back, so instead she just turned on her heel and headed towards her umbrella. 

******

She was dozing off on her beach chair a little while later, book open on her chest and the sound of children laughing filtering through her dreamy haze, when Ann spoke. 

“You don’t mind if Chris joins us for dinner, right?” 

“What about his friend?” Leslie sat up more abruptly than was probably wise and Ann arched a perfect eyebrow. 

“He might come too, but I haven’t met him yet so I don’t even know what he’s like. Actually, if you were into him that would be kind of awesome in terms of making plans for the…what’s happening? What’s going on here?” 

“What?” 

Ann waggled a finger in the general direction of Leslie’s face. She neglected to explain herself further, which made Leslie sigh. 

“I met his partner, friend, whatever. Ben. That’s his name.” 

Ann blinked in disbelief. “What? When? Where was I? You haven’t even met Chris - ”

“At the pool yesterday and then at the bar. I just found out he…he recognized you.” 

“At the bar just now?” Ann whirled in her seat. “Where is he? Is he cute? What’s he like? Do you - ”

“ _No_ ,” she cleared her throat. “He’s such a jerk. He’s so negative, he likes firing people for a living, he hates local government and he’s always laughing at me for no reason. He’s an ass. He’s awful. Keep him away from me - ”

“Answer the question.” 

“What question - ”

“Leslie,” she warned. Leslie pouted. 

 “He’s not…awful face-wise, but he’s a mean jerk and I hate him. How can a beach vacation put you in such a crappy mood…?” 

“Sometimes mean jerks are really awesome in bed - ”

“Ann!” 

“Leslie,” Ann lowered her voice. “What’s rule number 1?” 

Leslie pouted and folded her arms. 

“Pick someone hot you can stand but don’t actually like, but,” she took a breath. “I _can’t stand him_. He’s awful. I’m mad just thinking about it, and he wears ugly sunglasses so you can’t even... and then yesterday I basically caught him trying to steal our stuff.” 

“He was…wait, what? What was he - ”

“He _claims_ he was trying to see what my book was about, but he was probably just going to take pleasure in taking something from me like he does when he takes jobs from people or cuts programs or…” 

She was breathing really heavily and out of rhythm. She needed to calm down. Why was he getting her so riled up? Why should she care what one cynical person from Indianapolis thought? 

“Leslie,” Ann began calmly. “Is it possible you are at all attracted to him and are freaking out just a little because even if you don’t…like him or respect his job, he’s actually perfect for a vacation fling?” 

“ _No_.” 

Ann lifted both eyebrows this time. 

“Maybe you just don't want to get over Mark. Maybe you like dwelling on it - ”

“NO!” Now she was yelling. “I do! I do want to get over him. I just don’t want to…and then he…ugh, he was infuriating.” 

“Well, Mr. Infuriating might be at dinner tonight, so please be nice. I like Chris, he’s fun, he’s positive and it’s…” 

Leslie hung her head. It was Ann’s vacation too and she'd met a cute guy and wanted to hang out with him and just wanted Leslie to do the same. Getting all worked up over stupid Ben Wyatt whose name was somehow still ringing a bell was pointless. Operation Vacation Sexy Times was in full swing and it was time to find some _real_ possibilities. 

She scanned the horizon and pointed to a blonde guy with wavy hair that was slicked back with sea water…and definitely just as awesome and needing her fingers running through it as stupid mean jerk Ben Wyatt’s messy mop… 

“He’s cute,” Ann agreed. “Go on, I’ll spot you from here.” 

“What do I…?” 

“Just go grab him and talk to him. Be assertive,” Ann yanked on her wrist until Leslie was on her feet, toes sinking into the sand. Leslie squared her shoulders and hurried towards the water with a nervous cackle before she could change her mind. 

*****  
By that afternoon she was 0 for 4. 

Yup, four cute guys and no takers. Blonde wavy hair’s name had been Mark (which violated several rules, obviously), guy two had had short, dark hair and when she’d tried to initiate a conversation about seaweed (yeah, Ann had smacked her forehead for that one) he’d excused himself politely and gone tearing down the beach in a sprint. Guy three had lighter brown hair, was from DC and had politely engaged in conversation with her about her favourite historical _fiction_ books (see? Not breaking any rules). And he’d smiled at her winningly, and Leslie was just about to ask him to go for a long walk when Ann had yanked her away. 

Five minutes later a tall girl in a bikini dashed up to him like she belonged on Baywatch and two minutes after that they were hardcore making out in the water. Ugh. 

And guy four had been sloppy drunk at the bar with jet black hair and a killer tan. Leslie had introduced herself and he’d done the same and then asked if he could see her boobs. When she looked horrified he’d replied with “How about just the one then?” 

_Gross._

They napped in the hotel room - well Ann napped, Leslie started working on a new idea binder that she’d sacrificed a pair of shoes to have room in her suitcase for. By the time Ann woke up she was sitting in a fluffy robe on their balcony, freshly showered and waiting for Ann’s decision on what she should wear to dinner. A cute floral sundress they both liked was selected. Their hair was a frizzy mess so they braided it. 

Ann shrewdly pointed out that Leslie was shaking when they made their way down to the restaurant to meet Chris and Ben-MeanJerk-Wyatt. It had nothing to do with Ben, Leslie assured her. She was just hungry and hoping a certain individual would behave himself and act appropriately. The restaurant was busy, but not packed, there were people in colourful shirts playing music throughout and the glass doors opened onto a patio with a view of the ocean. They arrived first and were seated against a window, Ann’s soft hand reassuring on Leslie’s forearm. When Chris appeared in the doorway Ann squeezed lightly and Leslie inhaled. 

“Be nice,” Ann murmured, gentle but firm, as Chris strode towards them cheerily. His hand found Leslie’s shoulder before he even greeted her and she glanced up to see a smile so bright it was almost blinding. 

“You must be Leslie Knope!”

Leslie nodded, distracted by his piercingly blue eyes. “Yes. Hi.” 

Chris seemed to fixate and she felt a little too exposed under his gaze. 

“It is _so wonderful_ to meet you, from the conversations I’ve had with the beautiful Ann Perkins I can already tell you are an amazing human being.” 

Ann was glowing and staring at Chris like he was the best thing since sliced bread, so Leslie just smiled and murmured thanks. Ann's praise wasn't filling her with love and affection the way it usually did. 

“Where’s Ben?” Ann piped up, addressing the reason she was on edge. Chris pecked her cheek delicately. Where was Ben? 

“He won’t be joining us, I’m afraid,” Chris settled into a chair opposite her. “He’s feeling a bit low, and I don’t even have my B12 supplement to offer him.” 

“Oh no,” Ann reached for her water. “Did something happen?”  

“He had an unfortunate phone conversation with his girlfriend this morning and their relationship ended.” 

“Oh god,” Ann turned to shoot Leslie a look that Leslie did not appreciate. How was she supposed to know that when he was being a cynical, mean jerk? 

“Was it serious?” 

“Fairly,” Chris offered a weak smile. “They’d been dating for almost eighteen months. She was very upset with the lack of time he was spending in Indianapolis and…” he shrugged. “Well, I won’t bore you. Ben did not feel he would be very good company, is all.” 

Leslie reached for the bread basket and broke off a piece, chewing without really tasting. Okay, she probably shouldn’t have yelled at him as much as she had over his wearing of sunglasses. That had been excessive. 

“But anyway,” Chris clapped his hands. “Onto happier topics. Leslie, you must tell me _everything_ about your work in local government. It literally sounds like the most fascinating work in the world.” 

She started to explain as much as she could about her department to Chris and before she knew it, they’d ordered and she was picking at the food on her plate. Ann just smiled radiantly while Chris poked her brain and clearly did his absolute best to ensure Leslie felt like anything but the third wheel. 

When they finished up with dinner, Chris suggested a walk and dessert at a little cafe on the resort, and Leslie took that as her cue to leave the most random sort-of first date in the world. 

“No,” she answered quickly. “That’s okay. I might just go back and watch a movie in the room.” 

“You love dessert,” Ann protested gently. “You should at least come have that.” 

“No, no,” Leslie patted her arm affectionately. Ann was so sweet to be concerned about her. “Honestly, I’m fine. I’ll just get something and take it back to our room. You go, have fun.”

Ann’s brow furrowed. “Are you sure?” 

“Yes.” Leslie answered definitively. “Go. Have fun. I’ll see you in a bit.” 

Chris beamed at her and Ann stood tentatively, pressing a kiss to her temple before allowing herself to be led away from the table. Leslie twirled the umbrella in her drink and sighed a little. She would go for a long walk on the beach and get dessert to take back to her room and see what was on PBS. Actually, maybe the hotel got the History Channel. That would be even better. She was exhausted from trying to find a vacation hookup all day and some Leslie-only time was warranted. 

She grabbed her small purse, sandwiching it under her arm and making a beeline for the shore. 

***** 

The air smelled like the sea and Leslie inhaled sharply, letting it fill her lungs and soothe her addled nerves. Truthfully, she did feel bad she’d been so mean towards Ben and if he’d been there she would’ve apologized. 

But he hadn’t been, he was off moping somewhere, so there wasn’t much she could do about that - 

Crap on a dolphin. 

When Leslie looked up she was face to…well, back with Ben Wyatt. He was a few yards ahead of her, kicking at the surf and staring wistfully at the dark water, hands shoved in his pockets as if he were the maudlin protagonist in some romantic movie contemplating the meaning of life. 

“Hey, Leslie Knope,” he murmured without even turning around. Now she felt like a stalker. Maybe she could pretend she hadn't heard him. 

“Did you lock all your political thrillers in your room safe? What if housekeeping steals them?”

“Your sarcasm is not appreciated, Mr. Wyatt,” she retorted, but it lacked any of the heat from earlier that day. “Why’d you dump your girlfriend over the phone?” 

That got him to turn around. He did, slowly, and studied her hard before speaking. Only the waves lapping on the shore broke the silence.

“She dumped me, actually. She was pissed I spent my week off coming here with Chris even though she wasn’t supposed to be in town anyway and…yeah, it was a long time coming.” 

The back of her throat started to tickle for no reason. In the distance she heard faint laughter as the glow of the lights from the restaurant disappeared from her periphery. Wait, she was moving. Closer to him. Her breath stalled. 

“Oh,” she bit her lip. “I’m sorry, that sucks.” 

He shrugged in response and took a couple of his own steps towards her. 

“I’m sorry I yelled at you…again.” 

“No you’re not, you think I deserved it,” the corners of his mouth curved upwards and her cheeks grew hot. “How was dinner?” 

“Awkward. You made me the third wheel.” 

“Well, I’m a jerk like that,” he quipped. Her whole face burned now. Also, he smelled faintly of coconut. Not like he’d just been lathered in it, but like the scent of his lotion still hadn’t washed off from the day and mingled with whatever was emanating from his pores. It was pleasant. Subtle and understated and something she’d never imagined she’d appreciate until this very moment.

“I said I was - ”

“It’s fine, it was cute,” he finally removed his hand from his pocket to claw at his cheek. “I’ve been called a lot of things, but never a mean jerk.” 

“Like what?” 

“Uhhhh,” he chuckled in a way that was anything but smug. “Like, stuff that probably warrants a police escort, but the police won’t give me one because I’m an asshole who made cuts to their department too,” his fingers slipped to his neck. “Like I said, don’t fuck up your budget or you might get stuck with me.” 

The biting tone from before had gone and he sounded…deflated. It was as though any anger he’d been feeling about his breakup that morning had disappeared and all that was left was the sadness. God, even mean jerks don’t deserve to get dumped over the phone. That was harsh. 

“Yeah,” he lifted his shoulders and stepped until her nose was about six inches from his chest. Leslie tilted her head back to study his face, lips still turned up but eyes very clearly sad. They were still warm, but glazed and, if she was seeing things correctly, red-rimmed. The scent of coconut seemed to envelope her with his proximity, still subtle but filtering through her skin.

“What…do you like your job?” Ben practically stuttered. Leslie held her breath for a few seconds, contemplating his random question and also why her stomach was fluttering. 

And then she erupted. 

“I love everything about my job, Ann had to work really hard to convince me to take vacation but Ron, that’s my boss, he was thrilled because he’s a libertarian and he thinks I get too much work done and complete too many projects…And the break is nice. I’ll go back refreshed with a ton more ideas. I just love working with people and creating a service for people and brainstorming new things and serving the community. It’s the most amazing feeling.” 

“Huh,” Ben clucked his tongue, expression unreadable. “Tell me some of your projects.” 

“Oh my god,” her hands grabbed his shoulders without her brain’s permission. They were bony, but she could feel muscle flexing beneath.

“Where to begin. I have so many idea binders, but let’s see, okay. Well, I really loved Harvest Festival but we lost that a few years ago because of budget cuts,” she sighed wistfully and let her hands fall away. “I did a movie night in one of our parks. We set up the screen and everything; it was awesome, my team is amazing. And we do children’s concerts in the summer and…gosh, so many. You should really see my binders.” 

Ben exhaled like he'd been holding his breath. Leslie glanced up and saw the glassiness in his eyes was lingering. 

“Yeah, that’s the kind of stuff I cut. That and jobs; stuff people like.” 

“It sounds depressing,” she didn’t mean to insult him, it was just the truth.  

He shrugged. “It’s not my fault the problems exist; that’s what everyone doesn’t seem to realize. I do what has to be done. Chris is the good cop and I guess I’m a jerk for a living.” 

That made her laugh and then his elbow bumped into her arm. “Wait, was that a giggle?” 

“No,” she pushed back. His skin was warm, but not burning, the temperature more comforting than anything else. He was grinning now. Ugh, arrogance should not be attractive. Maybe Ann was onto something… 

No. Obviously, this was a poor choice for a hookup even if he had fit the rest of her criteria. His girlfriend just broke up with him and he hadn’t even had time to process that, let alone get any closure. 

“So?” he glanced over. “You gonna go in the water? A little night swimming?” 

“I’m wearing my dress.” 

“Take it off.” 

Something in his voice made her shiver, even though she hit him. 

“Rude,” she meant to come across offended but it ended up borderline-playful, probably because she felt it bubbling up inside of her and wanting to spill out the more she was around him. The more serious and withdrawn Ben Wyatt tried to appear the more she wanted to unwind him. 

“Yeah,” he ran his fingers through his soft-looking hair. “Sorry. Sea air must…it’s been a weird day.” 

“Plus, it’s a little too reminiscent of Jaws,” she threw in, drawing a loud laugh from him. She wanted to scream _finally_ , but managed to control herself. His laugh was nice, low and melodic, his grin sprouting to every corner of his face

“You are probably right,” he angled his eyes at her. “I’m gonna…I was just walking that way,” he pointed down the beach. 

Was that an invitation to join him? 

“I should…I guess I’ll go read my book or something.” 

Was it just her or did his face fall? Ben licked his lips and inclined his head. 

“Well, it was nice chatting to you Deputy Director Knope.” 

“Nice talking to you too, Ben Wyatt.”

Her stomach dropped as she watched his back retreat down the beach. Leslie spun on her heel quickly, squeezing her toes in the sand before heading up the beach back towards her room.


	4. Rule 4: Don't Talk About Mark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a not so great day so I decided to super work on this chapter and post. Thank you so much for reading and leaving kudos and commenting, you beautiful sophisticated naive newborn babies. Please continue to do so, as it totally makes my day. Much love <3

The boat buzzed as it skidded over the turquoise blue waters, the cool breeze contrasting the hot sun baking every inch of her. Her heart was palpitating and she felt so, so nauseous. Leslie had never been seasick in her life, but today, apparently, was the day her body had decided to be. When she was stuck on a tiny boat with nowhere to run and sitting in a seat next to one, Ben Wyatt. Another one, Ann Perkins, was to blame for her predicament.

Not that she really hated Ben anymore. If anything, she felt kind of bad for him given the unfortunate end to his relationship and his sadness-cation. But it was awkward. She’d thrown up over the side twice already and Ben had been there for the entire show and that was….ugh. Why was she on a boat vomiting when she should be on the beach trying to meet a hot fling to flung her or something?

Ann had begged her, that was why. She wanted to go snorkelling with Chris and Chris didn’t want to leave Ben alone all day to mope, because apparently him being the third wheel might send him spiralling or something. So, Leslie had agreed to go on this deep sea snorkelling adventure because Ann had pleaded and insisted how much she _really_ liked Chris and it had been a while since she’d had anything fun too. 

And now Leslie was seasick sitting beside Ben Wyatt. 

“Uh, are you okay?” 

Ben was back to wearing his Ray Bans and bathing suit with a different band t-shirt. REM, at least she knew that one. Her throat was burning with acid and she could barely make out a silhouetted Michael Stipe against the black cotton thanks to the vertigo. 

“I’ve never been seasick.” 

“Indiana’s kind of landlocked,” he murmured, tongue firmly in-cheek while Ann hovered nearby. Leslie dropped her head back between her legs and groaned. 

“I will have you know that I’m a certified SCUBA diver and this has never happened before. I think it’s is my punishment for being mean to you yesterday.” 

She heard him chuckle, unable to see his face, and then a warm palm was smoothing the centre of her back and she inhaled sharply. 

“You were mean to me yesterday?” she could hear the amusement in his voice and groaned. Leslie couldn’t ignore the fact that not only did Ben not appear overtly grossed out by her vomit, but he was also rubbing soothing circles along her back as they sped ahead into more open water. 

“How are you doing, anyway? With the girlfriend thing?” she muttered after several minutes. The hand on her back tightened. 

“I’ve had better days, but it’s probably for the best. I mean it’s shitty that I know as soon as I get back I’m gonna have to deal with the whole…breakup protocol, but I’ll live.” 

“What happened?” She turned and silently prayed there was no residual vomit smeared on the corners of her mouth. Ben tilted his head and it bugged her she couldn’t read his eyes again thanks to his stupid sunglasses. 

“Uhh,” he shook his limbs out. “You know how it is. She says I was never around and I said hey, that’s the job, and she said the job just made me miserable to be around and…” the nausea seeped away a little as he continued to stroke her back. 

“And you let me yell at you and basically tell you the same thing.” 

“I’m kind of a doormat sometimes,” he admitted softly.

 “Well, if you want to borrow one of my political thrillers to take your mind off - ” she sat up quickly and wretched overboard again. _Three times, this was ridiculous._ Ann caught her eye, but didn’t rush towards and she could’ve sworn the beautiful unicorn winked at her. 

Ben’s fingers, those long fingers she’d inadvertently fixated on the first day by the pool, pushed sweaty hair off her forehead and he asked quietly if she was okay. 

“You’re nice,” Leslie declared softly as she resumed her doubled over position. “And if you need something to read or…to distract you, I brought a lot of political thrillers and biographies if you’re into that kind of stuff.” 

 “I might take you up on that.” 

“Do you like politics? Is that why you work for the state, or do you just do it because you like numbers and it was the first job you got out of college and…” 

Ben licked his lips carefully. “I don’t…know how to answer that.” 

“What does that mean?” 

“I like politics. I don’t think politics likes me.” 

Leslie was about to ask for clarification when she heaved again. Nothing came out, thankfully, and the boat finally slowed to a stop. Chris immediately started piling on snorkelling equipment and Ann crossed over to check on her. Leslie’s stomach appeared to have settled a bit; at the very least it wasn’t lurching uncontrollably. She exhaled and swallowed a whine when Ben’s cool fingers disappeared. 

“Hey you,” Ann kneeled down. “You doing okay?” 

Leslie nodded, forehead feeling clammy. Ann shot a look at Ben and rubbed her knee. 

“I was…you know I’m happy to stay out here with you - ”

“No, no,” Leslie patted her arm reassuringly. She might be seasick, but she wasn’t about to ruin everyone else’s fun since that was the only reason she’d come in the first place. Plus, the boat driver/guide/whatever-he-was would be there. “You go in. Seriously. I’m fine.” 

Ann looked uncertain. 

“I’m serious. Go.” 

 “Are you _absolutely sure_ you don’t want me to stay out here with you until the medicine kicks in?” 

Ann was such a smart nurse, she’d put some seasick medicine in her bag and handed it to Leslie at the first signs. It must have been starting to work, because the colours around her were sharpening back to normal. 

“I’m fine,” Leslie squeezed her arms. “Go. Take pictures of tropical fish.” 

“Okay,” Ann kissed her forehead. “If you need anything you…tell the… guy to come get me or something and I’ll be right up. I promise.” 

“Thanks,” Leslie watched her walk away before leaning back against the seat and squeezing her eyes shut. The sun felt nice now, warming the sweat on her skin. 

Also, Ben Wyatt was still sitting beside her. 

“Aren’t you going?” She twisted a little. He shrugged. 

“I’m not much for snorkelling. Chris made me come so I wouldn’t be depressed.” 

“Oh.” 

“Plus, I’m not totally sure I trust that guy and I should probably stay up here with you.” 

She giggled as Ben brushed her hair away again. Fuck, she really liked his hands. Almost as much as she liked his hair. 

“I’m sorry your girlfriend broke up with you,” His fingers felt so nice on her forehead she wanted to lean into him. “But at least it was good timing. Ann made me take a whole week off of work to come here because I’ve been kind of…okay, possibly obsessing over this guy for a while.” 

His jaw shifted. “An ex?” 

“Uh…we hooked up and never talked about it. He’s a friend.” 

“Some friend.” 

“Hey.” She chastised. Ben didn’t seem apologetic. He just shrugged. 

“It was a drunk…mistake. He wanted to pretend it never happened. I’m…” 

“Hoping something could still happen anyway?” 

Leslie balked. 

“What! No! Preposterous! I would never think - ever! On no planet, would I ever - how _dare_ you!” 

Now Ben’s mouth was twitching again as she sat fully upright. Thankfully, nothing started spinning and her stomach stayed put. 

“You had sex with the guy; if he wanted to date you he’d be dating you by now. It’s not going to happen.”

“I know that!” Her vision had flooded with tears. Well that was uncalled for. 

“Do you?” He stared her down and Leslie wanted to smack his stupid, adorable face for thinking he knew everything just because he had a penis like Mark did. 

Crap, she shouldn’t call his face adorable. 

“YES! And also REM is stupid and no longer relevant so - hah!” 

“Okay, obviously you’re just spreading lies because I told you the truth,” Ben retorts, with a cute grin. He pressed lightly against the base of her neck. 

“Just…don’t waste your time on an asshole. You’re sweet… you shouldn’t…do that.”

“I’m what?” she demanded.

“Sweet,” his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “And unwaveringly positive about local government which is strange, but also kind of cute. Don’t let people like that…cynical, complacent, apathetic people ruin that.” 

“You think I’m sweet? All I do is yell at you.” 

“Lots of people yell at me. You apologized…I mean, you apologized and yelled at me again, and lied and said REM was no longer relevant, but…” his lips twisted. “Plus, you seem a little emotionally fragile right now - as am I,” he added quickly as if he just knew a feminist rant was bubbling up within her. “And you’re not telling me there’s other fish in the sea or…” 

He trailed off as she started to snicker at his pun. 

“Okay that…was unintentional. But yes, anyway, you…you seem sweet. Maybe just hearing about all your projects made me…I dunno. I’m not drunk, I promise. This is…I’m making this weird - ” 

“You think I’m sweet.” 

Ben just smiled, the first smile he’d given her without a trace of arrogance or sarcasm that definitely made her throat burn, and not from vomit. 

Crap, she might be in trouble. 

***** 

She did _not_ nap on Ben Wyatt, for the record. She perhaps dozed off with the sun on her face and the anti-nausea medication in her veins, and it just so happened she dozed in the direction Ben’s lap was and that’s where she remained until Ann and Chris emerged from the water. When she awoke she didn’t open her eyes right away, relishing in the muscle of his bony thigh flexing beneath her cheek, the way his fingers were carding through her hair and how his thumb flicked her earlobe every few passes. 

“Oh no!” Chris exclaimed. “Ben, you didn’t even get to go snorkelling! Is Leslie okay?!” 

“Uh, it’s fine,” Ben’s fingers pressed gently to her temples and Leslie bit down on a moan. “She’s just…been out for a bit. Probably that pill you gave her.” 

Ann Perkins’s cool, wet, petite hand rested against Leslie’s brow and then took her pulse. 

“Les - ”

As if realizing what a compromised position she was in Leslie jolted up, smacking her forehead against Ann’s and wincing as she palmed her best friend’s cheeks. 

“Oh god, I’m so sorry.” Stupid depth perception. 

“It’s fine…how do you feel?” 

“Better,” she exhaled, dropping her hands from Ann and shifting slightly away from Ben. If it offended him she couldn’t tell beneath his sunglasses. Which was why she hated them even if they did make him look sexy and mysterious and probably were good for sneaking around. 

Crap, she thought he was sexy. 

“How long was she out?” Ann looked expectantly at Ben. He checked his watch. 

“Maybe half an hour?” 

“We’ll head back, maybe nap by the pool or something, don’t you think?” 

“Yeah,” Leslie shifted in her seat, the grogginess from the medicine lingering. It wasn’t as comfy as she’d been a few minutes before, but it would do and keep her out of trouble. 

“That sounds nice.” 

****** 

“Feeling better?” It was later and Ann had convinced a much perkier Leslie to come to a bar next door from their resort and have a few drinks. Chris had met them there and Ben was possibly joining, but she hadn’t seen him yet. Which was good, because the more she saw of him the more she ran the risk of actually trying to initiate something he would live to regret two days after his girlfriend dumped him. 

Also, she was probably still dehydrated from all the vomiting and the sticky humidity of the bar was not helping her think clearly. 

Leslie lifted her eyes in time to see Ben settle in the booth directly beside her. Mother fuck - 

“Yes,” she managed smoothly and turned to him. “Thanks for sitting with me, by the way.” 

His cheeks tinged pink and his eyes crinkled. Damn, he was still adorable. But also, familiar. Something about him was _so familiar_ and it was driving her insane. Had she seen him at some government event or something? 

“You look nice.”

“Thank you,” she flicked a curl over her shoulder as he glanced around. The dress was a loner from Ann and tied at the neck, making her boobs look amazing. 

“Where are, uh…?” 

“Dancing,” she bit her lip. “Actually, I should warn you, apparently one of us might get kicked out of our room later so they can…” 

“Ew.” 

She giggled. “That’s what happens when beautiful people meet, nobody can stand in the way of the sex.” 

“Gross,” he smacked her playfully, his thigh pressing warmly against hers. “Stooooop.” 

She cackled this time, and Ben chuckled in a way that was self-deprecating for no reason. 

“You should come to my room and pick a book for tomorrow. I’ll tell Ann and then you can just…give them a few minutes.” 

“A few minutes,” he snorted. “Yeah, right.” 

“What does that mean?” 

“How…” he studied her carefully. “How many minutes is a few minutes?” 

“Girls don’t like it when you make it last too long!” 

Ben lifted an eyebrow. “Uh, then every girl I’ve dated since college has been lying to me.” 

_Whoa_ , her cheeks turned instantly hot. Ben rubbed his brow. 

“That’s…that’s not…that came out wrong. I just…uh…have had alcohol.”

Why did it feel like he was always apologizing for what he said around her? 

“You should get drunk with me.” 

Well, that was abrupt. 

“I should?” 

“Yes. On margaritas. That’s the best break up drink. And then you can come back to my room and get a political thriller and we can just…chill out there while Ann and Chris whatever. For however many minutes it takes.” 

Ben lifted an eyebrow. “Just chill out.” 

“I’m not hitting on you. 

“Right.” 

“I’m just helping you. Like I help all my friends.” 

“Are we friends now?” 

“You saw me puke." 

Ben chuckled softly. “Then I have a lot more friends from college than I realized.” 

“I’m going to get us drinks. One round of margs and tequila shots and by the time I’m done with you you won’t even remember her name.” 

She felt Ben’s eyes on her as she pushed through the tightly packed dance floor with a lot of effort before finally reaching the bar. When she came back she was sweating everywhere and not the way she wanted to be. The loud music pounded in her ears and she squished close to her new friend to hear him speak. 

“You…okay?” 

“Uh huh, it’s just very full,” she exhaled and handed Ben his drink. He pushed a sweaty curl out of her eyes and offered her a little smile. 

“So, this is the Leslie Knope break up survival strategy?” 

“No, this one I can’t patent unfortunately,” she tapped her tequila shot against his. “Ready?” 

“Ugggh,” he groaned and rubbed his face. “You’re going to get me in trouble, aren’t you?” 

Leslie giggled. A part of her was still kind of hoping they could get in trouble together. 

*****

“Soooooo,” Ben slurred adorably several rounds later. Her head felt foggy and his mouth was getting significantly cuter with each round. So far he’d told her about a bunch of towns he’d visited in Indiana and she’d told him about her last public forum that lasted seven hours over the addition of a bicycle rack. 

Also, his hand kept brushing her arm. 

She was just saying. 

“How come you didn't do this for that guy you slept with?” 

“I tried with Mark,” she admitted, slumping dramatically on the table. “It didn’t work.” 

“You like him that much?” 

She didn’t answer, just took another sip of her marg. Ben tried to lift an eyebrow again and ended up just squinting weirdly, which made Leslie cackle and lean into him. 

“We should play truth or dare,” she declared, avoiding the question. 

“We should?” 

“Uh huh.” 

“Okay, truth or dare?” he tapped her nose. 

“Truth.” 

“What’s so great about this Mark guy?” 

“He’s…” she lifted her eyes to meet Ben. “I don’t know. He’s handsome and smart and funny and he was good at…sex stuff…?” 

“Why? Was it over really quickly?” 

She hit him for grinning, even though she kind of laughed in response. 

“How do you define…why you like someone? You like them for who they are, right? And I guess I’m just not the type of person he likes back that way, so…” she poked his cheek. “What?” 

“What?” 

“You’re making a face.” 

“I’m just trying to figure out what’s wrong with him.” 

“What do you mean?” 

Ben’s warm brown eyes locked on hers and her pulse started to race. Crap, he actually was adorable and sweet and she was super into him. Like hardcore, contents of her panties throbbing, would bone him right this second, into him. 

This part wasn’t in her binder and Ann was unavailable for consultation. 

“My turn,” he took a gulp of his drink, snapping Leslie out of her reverie. 

“Truth or dare?” she stuttered and hoped he didn’t notice. 

“Truth.” 

“How heartbroken are you about…?” 

Ben licked his lips, still holding her gaze. She shivered, despite the thick heat of the surrounding air. 

“Cara?” 

“Cara,” Leslie tested the name on her tongue. She didn’t like it. It didn’t pair well with Ben. _Cara and Ben, Ben and Cara_ \- Nope, not a fan. 

“Not,” he lifted his shoulders.“Not as much as I probably should be.” 

“Did you…love her?’ 

Ben sighed, leaning away and rubbing his neck. “I don’t know. I’ve never…I guess I’m not touchy feely or something, because I never know how to answer that question. I enjoyed her company; I missed her when I was on the road, not all the time, but I did.” 

“That’s not love.” 

“No?” he pushed her hair off her face again. “Then fuck, I guess not. Which is probably why I’m not that broken up about it.” 

“Oh,” she gulped and he swirled the ice cubes in his glass. 

“Truth or dare?” 

“Truth,” she shrugged when he nudged her. 

“What’s something you never tell anyone?” 

It comes out like an exhalation. As if she’d been holding this in, waiting for someone to ask her this exact question without even realizing it. 

“I wrote I want to be Governor of Indiana in my kindergarten dream journal.” 

Ben chuckled, but it wasn’t mocking. It was soft and understated and did nothing to help the butterflies in her stomach. 

“Why stop there?” 

“Oh, I don’t plan to, but I was five at the time so that seemed like enough then. My dad said the same thing, he said ‘why would you stop at Governor?’.” She took a sip of her own drink. The whole room was spinning now and she was caught up in the delicious haze. The urge to curl up against Ben Wyatt like she had on the boat was overtaking her and Leslie scooted impossibly closer. 

“So, did you revise your dreams?” 

“Maybe,” she bit her lip. 

“And what does your dad say now?”  

“He doesn’t. He’s buried at a cemetery in Florida.”

Okay wow, that got heavy really fast. Ben’s brow creased and his eyes softened even more. 

“Uh, I am so sorry.” 

He was. It wasn’t something she talked about a lot because whenever she brought it up that was the automatic response everyone gave, but Ben seemed like he actually felt that sorry, like he wished there was more he could say that would be appropriate. 

“It’s okay,” she managed a smile. “I was ten, it was a long time ago.” 

He smiled back, tucking a curl behind her ear. Leslie figured if he was allowed to touch her hair _constantly_ she could do the same. So, stretching forward, she pushed his messy brown mop through her fingers like she’d been itching to do since she met him. It was softer than she’d imagined and so thick her small hands disappeared in it. God, could you orgasm just from touching hair? 

“Your hair is ridiculous, Mr. Wyatt.” 

His answering grin was punch-drunk and made her whole body pulse with desire. 

“Thanks,” he swallowed. “You know what, I am wasted,” he leaned into her touch. “You wanna…get out of here? Go for a walk or get some air or…” 

“We should go back to my room…” she lowered her eyes. “To find you a political thriller since Ann and Chris are…” 

Ben’s eyes widened a touch and he bit his lip. “Yeah,” he cleared his throat. “Yeah, alright, let’s do that.” 

_Yes. Lets definitely do that._


	5. Rule 2: You're Not Dating Them, You're Fucking Them

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That last chapter was originally written combined with this one, but it got too long and I didn't want to edit, so here we are, two separate chapters. 
> 
> I still love your kudos/comments and all of you more than words can express! Happy Hump Day!

They kept stumbling into each other on the walk back to Leslie’s room, which made her cackle often and lock her arm snugly around Ben Wyatt’s waist. He snickered dopily, murmuring nonsense about sunshine and lavender into her hair while his hand slid up and down her spine and made her shiver. She kept laughing in response and cupping his face and it was all very touchy-feely, very visceral in the thick Caribbean air. And awesome. Very awesome. 

Thankfully, Ann was not in their room and there was a hastily handwritten message by the phone saying she was in Chris’s and giving Leslie the number. Leslie sighed for no reason, settling on her bed as Ben stood awkwardly in the centre of the floor. The silliness from their walk and the flirting from the bar had disappeared as soon as the harsh lights had hit them and she resisted the temptation to turn everything off and pull him beside her. 

“My books are over there,” she pointed to her open suitcase. Ben stumbled, closing the distance and poking tentatively into her bag. She giggled at his silly expression. 

“Uh, why do you have two biographies of Eleanor Roosevelt?” 

Leslie stared at him in disbelief. “Uh, I have every biography on Eleanor Roosevelt. Those are the two I brought on vacation.” 

“Have you read them before?” He studied the covers carefully. 

“Once or twice.” 

Eight times. Each. 

The smirk was back and Ben ran a hand through his hair, making it stick up everywhere. 

“If I’m going to run for office one day I have to stay informed. Also, they’re amazing.” 

“Right,” he set the book down and settled carefully in the only chair in the room. He looked stiff and uncomfortable and seemed to be fighting his drunkeness to stay upright. 

“You can sit on Ann’s bed. I’m sure she won’t mind.” 

“Oh,” he stood, toeing off his shoes and slumping onto the other mattress. “Oh god, my head is spinning.” 

“That’s why margaritas are the best breakup drink.” 

“Yeah,” he rubbed his face. “I definitely don’t feel sad right now, that’s for sure.” 

“Me either,” she admitted. Her bones were heavy, gluing her to the mattress, but every other part of her could’ve floated away. There was a cute guy in her room and she was enjoying his company, even if they were breaking a rule and talking about political ambitions, dead parents and feminist icons. 

“I know you from somewhere,” she decided to blurt out at that moment. “It’s driving me insane that I can’t place you. Are you sure you haven’t ever come to Pawnee?” 

“No,” he shifted onto his side and stared at her through bleary brown eyes. “I haven’t.” 

“Maybe in Indianapolis? This is so weird, I’m usually good with faces…” 

“I…uh…” he groaned into his hand with no warning. “Partridge, Minnesota doesn’t mean anything to you, does it?” 

It took her an embarrassing amount of time to piece it together, considering she’d had his photo pinned inside her locker for most of senior year. She blamed tequila.  

“Oh. My. God,” she twisted and sat up. “You’re Benji Wyatt.” 

“Ugh, I am,” he cleared his throat and flopped onto his back. “That I am.” 

“Oh my god,” she squeaked and practically catapulted across the room onto Ann’s mattress with a bounce. Leslie landed hovering over him, catching his pupils poking through his fingers nervously. “I was so jealous of you! I didn’t realize we had a _celebrity_ in the house.” 

Ben groaned again behind both hands now, but it seemed good natured and Leslie grinned wider. 

“Please, Mr. Mayor, help yourself to my political biographies, as many as you want,” she dragged her hand across his abdomen. “Do you want to use our facilities? I think I have Hail to the Chief on my mp3 player…” 

He swatted at the air in her general direction, catching her hand. She inhaled sharply, because _holy shit Benji Wyatt was holding her hand_. His sex appeal just ricocheted up like three thousand points. 

“It kind of fucked up everything. That’s why I do the auditing stuff in a different state…to avoid getting rotten fruit thrown at me and to prove I’m responsible.”

“I also thought you were really cute,” his jaw unhinged when she plucked his remaining hand away from his face and cupped his cheeks between hers. His skin was warm and a little scratchy from obvious disinterest in a razor on vacation. Leslie licked her lips. 

“I still think you’re really cute, actually. Especially now that you’re not a mean jerk.” 

That was totally the tequila talking and she didn't even care a little. Boy Mayor (grown, as an adult, she wasn't weird) was in her hotel room looking rumpled and adorable with his face between her hands. Somewhere inside of her, seventeen year old Leslie Knope was already squealing in ecstasy. She seriously needed to at least make out with this guy; she’d never forgive herself if she didn’t. 

She was about to crane her neck down and go to town on his face, the taste of tequila lingering on her tongue, when Ben’s eyes bulged out and he gulped, easing her away. Leslie pouted as she rolled to the side. 

“We should…coffee, maybe? To…not hate ourselves tomorrow?” his cheeks had turned pink and Leslie felt bad now. She hadn’t want to make him uncomfortable. 

“Sure,” she sprung up so quickly she felt dizzy and stumbled. Ben’s hand was still on her wrist. 

“You…sit,” he turned her gently and eased her onto her own mattress before puttering over to the coffeemaker across from the closet. 

They were silent while he waited for it to brew, and a few moments later he returned, hair still sticking out at odd angles as he gave her a cup of black coffee ( _ew_ ) and a handful of cream and sugar packets. She dumped all of them - every single one in their possession - into hers and watched his brown eyes twinkle, amused again. That made her heart flutter. 

“You are on the fast track to diabetes,” he murmured. She smacked his hip with her hand, but grinned. He was rocking tentatively on the balls of his feet, clearly debating whether he was to sit on Ann’s bed again or not. 

“Do you…mind?” he gestured uncertainly to the patch of mattress beside her. Leslie shook her head, throat going a little dry as she forced down a few mouthfuls of the bitter beverage. Ugh, it was gross; why did hotel rooms never give you an adequate number of sugar packets?

“Hey, I’m sorry the guy you’re in love with fucked you and never wanted anything to do with you afterwards.” 

Leslie winced and Ben uttered another _sorry_ , obviously apologizing for his crassness. She ignored him, setting her mug down and stretching out beside him. 

“We’re friends!” She insisted with feigned brightness. “It was a little weird at first, but we still hang out and talk and he’s a great support system at work and…” 

“Wait,” Ben twisted onto his side, resting on an elbow. “You work with this guy?”

“Yes! He’s a city planner! I bounce ideas off him all the time!” 

“And it’s never…come up?” Ben blinked in disbelief. “You see him every day and neither of you thought maybe you should address the fact that you fucked?”

She winced again. It sounded so debauched when he said it like that. 

“We were drunk,” she shrugged as if that would explain everything. The whole situation was feeling a little too similar, only Ben Wyatt wasn’t Mark, her actual friend. He was just a guy she’d hung around for a few hours over a few days with a cute face who also happened to be drunk who she might enjoy making out with. 

 Crap, she wanted Ben to be her vacation fling and he was probably totally not ready for that yet. 

“Does he…y’know, talk to other girls?” he was gesturing wildly with his free hand. “Flirt with other girls around you?” 

“Well, you can tell he tries to be discrete about it.” 

“Ugh,” Ben drained his cup. “Well, since we’re friends now, may I speak freely?” 

“Of course, Mr. Mayor.” 

He pinched her bare thigh and then didn’t pull his hand back. Her breathing quickened. 

“He sounds like an ass, not your friend.” 

Her heart started thumping harder and she was pretty sure Ben could hear it. 

“You don’t..try and be discrete, you just do it. And if someone’s your friend and you want them to keep being your friend you talk about what happened, and you care about them more than a few minutes of awkwardness. That’s a dick move.” 

Leslie swallowed, because she supposed he might be kind of right on some level. It did, possibly, maybe, upset her every time she saw Mark flirting or hooking up with another girl. 

“Drink your sugar,” his hand came off her thigh and she missed the weight instantly. Ben met her eyes, his Adam’s apple bobbed and holy crap, was this coffee decaf or something? Why was she still feeling the urge to lick his neck? Right along the line of his scruff… _mhmmm_. Leslie gave her head a shake and finished her drink. 

“I should…” he clawed at the back of his neck. “Probably call the room and see if it’s safe to…go back.” 

“You can stay here.” 

Goddammit, she shouldn’t have said that. He didn’t want her to say that, that’s why he was suggesting leaving. Ben lifted his head and quirked his mouth sideways. Seriously, with that hair. How was that allowed? 

“Just until Ann comes back,” she added quickly. “Just…because our friends are hooking up and you need a place to stay.” 

“Right,” he tilted his head carefully, crossing the room to the phone resting on the desk. Her heart sank; he really just wanted to go. Not that she blamed him, but he was nice to look at and also kind of nice to talk to and she’d be lonely with Ann gone and they probably wouldn’t even get C-SPAN here, which was a compelling reason for vacationing in America next time. 

When Ben said into the receiver “Uh, hi, this is room 421. Can you send up more sugar packets?” her heart felt like it was being squeezed. 

“Uh...how many do you have? Like, in the whole hotel?” And he winked at her. Crap, he was adorable. She might love him. 

What? No. She wasn’t thinking that. He was just getting her sugar. Adorably. 

Ben sat on the bed beside her again, a little closer than he had been before. Leslie held her breath when he touched the fabric of her dress, biting his lip and staring at the swish of yellow and orange. She lay back and let the alcohol force her eyes to flutter shut. 

“Fuck,” he yanked his hand away abruptly and fell back beside her, covering his face with his hands. Leslie eyes jolted open, but she stayed as she was, their bare arms pressing together. 

“W-what’s wrong?” 

“I’m trying really hard not to kiss you right now.” 

“O-oh.” Oh, god. 

His palm settled on her bare skin and she shivered. “Because my girlfriend just broke up with me and you’re sad about the asshole and that wouldn’t be right.” 

Except, his long fingers were pressing against the inside of her knee now, electrifying every cell in her body. Her brain practically exploded when his hand started inching its way north, a little further with every press. It was mesmerizing to watch his hand dip under her dress, disappearing into a mess of brightly coloured floral fabric while Ben lay on his back, his feet on the floor, eyes focused on the popcorn ceilings like he couldn’t bare to look at her. It was stupidly arousing actually. Her panties were soaked and her centre was burning. She couldn’t remember having ever wanted to jump someone’s bones so badly. 

“Do you need to get changed or something?” He whispered, interrupting her reverie. Leslie swallowed and nodded. 

“Probably.” 

Ben’s hand fell away and it was a long time before her limbs remembered how to move. And then, as the independent 30-something woman she was, Leslie made a decision. She reached up behind her neck, watching Ben’s eyes bulge out as she undid the knotted strings holding her dress up and let them fall away, her nipples barely covered by the now-loosened fabric. The slightest of movements and she’d be topless. 

Ben Wyatt looked like he might’ve swallowed his tongue and that was oh-so gratifying. 

“Good lord,” he breathed. Emboldened, Leslie rolled onto her side and then climbed on top of him, hovering on her elbows, and _oops_ there go her boobs. His hands trailed up her sides, stopping just shy of where she wanted them, eyes darting between her nipples and her gaze. 

“How drunk are you right now?” It was barely audible and her hands started to tremble. A lot still, probably. But Boy Mayor seemed like kind of a good guy and she feared admitting that would break whatever spell they were under. She’d want him sober too; he didn’t need to feel bad about anything. 

“You should kiss me.” 

“Leslie,” he squeezed his eyes shut as if the very image of her on top of him was enough to make him throw caution to the wind. Dammit, that was really hot. It was the most sexual she’d ever felt, and if you’d asked her in that moment the last guy she’d had sex with she probably couldn’t have told you his name. Leslie leaned over and Ben kept one hand on her waist while another lifted up to thumb her cheek. 

A knock at the door startled them both. 

“That’s your sugar,” he whispered, eyes still shut. Leslie exhaled, letting him tip her gently onto her back. When he pressed a chaste kiss to her temple before heading to answer the door she almost died at how sweet he was. She snuggled onto her side, still topless and mentally preparing herself to hardcore seduce Benji Wyatt when he came back to bed. Maybe he’d make her drink more coffee first and maybe she would, but that wouldn’t change anything. She’d still super badly want tear every stitch of clothing off of his body and see him naked and undone between her sheets. Leslie closed her eyes, a grin playing on her lips as she pictured herself riding him while his low voice filtered through the room. 

When she opened her eyes again the sun was up. 

Crap, crap, crap, what the hell had - she couldn’t have fallen asleep! 

“Uh, hi,” Ben was still there, hovering at the end of her bed. His face was even scruffier, his hair was still all over the place and he was wearing the shorts and t-shirt from last night. 

“Ann’s…still in my room,” he cleared his throat, offering her a styrofoam coffee container. “I hope you don’t mind I stayed…you kinda just passed out on me, I wanted to make sure you were okay.” 

Leslie accepted the cup and stared at it, her head spinning now. 

“It’s a mocha…extra whipped cream. I…took a guess.” 

Leslie stared blankly at the cup in her hands, only then noticing she was wearing her Li’l Sebastian t-shirt and that her dress was pooling around her hips. 

“Did you…” 

“Sorry,” he clawed at the side of her face. “You were kinda…falling out of your dress and I would’ve felt weird leaving you like that, so…I just saw that at the top of your bag and… I didn’t go digging through your stuff, I promise.” 

He bit his lip. Should they talk about the fact that he’d seen her boobs? 

“Did you uh…I don’t know, want to go for a walk on the beach or something? Have coffee out there, see if we spot any dolphins?” 

“Um, s-sure - ”

“It’s just still pretty early and I don’t know when Chris and Ann will emerge so - ”

“Okay,” her face was burning. “Where did you…?” 

“Ann’s bed,” he pointed to the mess of sheets to her left. “I figured they’d change the bedding anyway, so she wouldn’t mind if…” 

He’d seen her boobs that she'd intentionally revealed and almost made out and had sex with her, and he hadn’t even slept in the bed beside her. How cute was he? 

Ben waited while she changed back into her bathing suit ( _yes, her two piece, shut up, Ann_ ) under a pair of short and a loose fitting tank top. Her hair she pulled into pigtails and Ben smiled crookedly when he saw her, making her heart pound in his chest. 

“You saw my breasts.” She blurted out suddenly. His cheeks flamed. 

“I…yes…I did. I did see them.” 

“Were they…you didn't want to have sex with them though. Or me,” fuck, her head was mushy. "You didn't want to have sex with me." 

His whole face was red now. 

 “I…we were very drunk. You…nothing was…” he was gesturing awkwardly. “Nothing didn’t happen because…you have great…nice breasts,” he covered his face in his hands and she snickered. 

“We were drunk. Really drunk. And sad about…exes or whatever and then you fell asleep. It had nothing to do with…” he motioned his hand in her general vicinity. “That. Oh god, this is awful, isn’t it?” 

“Yes,” she grinned, sipping her coffee. This one tasted like nectar of the gods. “Come on, let's go for that walk.” 

***** 

They didn’t spot any dolphins in the early, fragrant dawn, though Ben conveniently pointed one out on the horizon that disappeared as soon as she followed his finger. When she plucked his hand down and called him a big liar he didn’t give it back, holding loosely but sliding his fingers through hers and tugging her further along the surf. Leslie swelled with affection at the easy contact. It had been a while since she’d had sex, but it had been even longer since a guy had grabbed her hand as they went for a walk. 

And even longer since they flashed a cute smile over their shoulder and rubbed their thumb over her skin. 

Okay never. That had never happened before. 

“I just…let me be really clear, that was not at all about you. Or it was, but only because I was trying to…be a good friend I guess.” 

She smiled back, even though she really didn’t want him to be a good friend when she only had five more days of vacation. 

“I’m sorry,” she exhaled. “I’m sorry if that made you uncomfortable…since your girlfriend just broke up with you.” 

“Let’s,” he licked his lips. “Tonight if Chris makes us all have dinner together to make sure I’m not spiralling, you…will you be there?” 

He tugged ever-so-slightly on her arm and she went to him easily.

“Uh huh.” 

Ben puffed forcefully. “Then maybe let’s…not get super drunk tonight.” 

 What did that mean? Was he afraid they’d make an actual bad decision drunk? Was he afraid he’d have to see her boobs again? Was alcohol making him sad about Cara? 

She didn’t ask because two days before she’d still thought he was a mean jerk. Instead, she just kept walking and let Ben continue to imagine he was seeing dolphins, pleasure tugging at her insides whenever he grinned crookedly. When they started to walk back up to the resort they spotted Ann and Chris - super all over each other - in front of the restaurant. Leslie sighed just a little when Ben dropped her hand and made a face. 

“Leslie Knope! Ben Wyatt!” Chris exclaimed cheerfully, as if they hadn't just watched him tongue her best friend on the steps to the buffet. Ann’s skin was beautifully flushed and her eyes were bright and clear. 

“What did you two get up to last night!?” Chris inquired, beaming as if it wasn’t potentially the most awkward question in the history of the world. What if they had slept together? The way Ben was shifting on the balls of his feet it certainly seemed like they had. 

“Ben slept in your bed,” Leslie blurted out at Ann to save them all. Chris slapped him on the back. 

“Well, should we get some breakfast? I am absolutely _famished_.” 

_Ew_ , Leslie thought as Ann’s flush turned to redness. A sideways glance told her Ben was thinking the same thing. 

“Will you be having sugar to go with your sugar?” he whispered, breath licking her earlobe as they stepped through the doors. 

Leslie just shivered and smiled. 

*****    
“Okay,” Ann came out of the bathroom changed for the day, cascading brunette mane piled on top of her head. There was a hickey on her neck and two floating around her cleavage, but she didn’t seem bothered by how obvious they were. Not that she should be. Vacations were for hooking up. 

And apparently meeting your high school fantasy crush and holding his hand while you walked on the beach two days after he broke up with his girlfriend of a year and a half. 

There was seriously nothing like this in the binder. Probably because this would only happen to her. 

“Tell me what happened. Or didn’t happen.” 

The words started spilling out of Leslie without restraint. She detailed everything, every second from the time Ann and Chris jumped ship, to the alcohol and truth or dare and what happened when they came back to the room. 

“Oh god,” Ann rubbed her brow. “How did you even hear about this boy mayor thing, though? Were you…” she rolled her eyes when Leslie stared at her in disbelief. “Never mind, of course you heard about it. Of course you’re the only person on the beach who has any idea what he’s talking about and you find each other.” 

Leslie heart fluttered at that. It was kind of fate, she supposed. Why oh why did he have to be fresh out of a relationship? 

“Les,” Ann crouched in front of her. “He kept staring at you all through breakfast, I'm pretty sure he's down to clown. Just...remember the rules. It’s just sex. Casual sex.” 

“Right,” Leslie waved her off. Of course she remembered the rules - _she wrote the binder on the rules_. “I know.” 

“Are you going to try and hookup with Ben for real, then?” 

“Maybe,” she shrugged in a way she hoped was noncommittal. “If he’s into it. He just broke up with - ”

“He's into it," Ann reiterated. "I’m just a little worried you might be _too_ into it. You’re making your dreamy, doe-eyed, Mark-kissed-my-cheek-today face.” 

She absolutely was _not_ making her Mark face. If anything she had created a brand new face. A Ben face. Ben got his own face, he didn’t share Mark’s. He was cute and sweet and talked to her about being Governor and held her hand and…

Oh crap, Ann might be right. 

“Just,” Ann swallowed. “He seems like he could be a good…choice for you as long as you don’t get too attached. Remember - ” 

“It's fucking,” Leslie waved her off. “Of course. No big deal.” 

It was just sex. She might just be having sex with Ben. That thought didn’t make her shiver with anticipation or glow with delirious happiness because he held her hand and walked on the beach with her and stroked her hair when she was seasick. It was just a fact. 

*****

Okay, she could do this. She had her target in sight, she was dripping in a new blue bikini she’d bought at the gift shop and her hair was curling wildly from the salt water. Ben was sprawled under an umbrella with the political thriller open and he hadn’t seen her yet. Ann and Chris were draped over each other at the bar, glowing like the perfect specimens they were, and she’d been given a little butt pat before she began her mission. _Operation Be Honest and Tell Ben What You Want_. There hadn't been time to make a binder.

“Hey,” Leslie hovered in Ben’s periphery, watching him gulp as he carefully put his book to the side and turned to face her. How was she supposed to see if he was super turned on by her in a wet bikini if he kept his sunglasses on? 

“Good lord,” he muttered under his breath, his chest rising and falling as he propped up on his elbows. Leslie shivered with pleasure. That was one way. 

“Is your book politically thrilling?” 

“It uh,” he sat up, setting his feet in the sand, his face aligned with her belly button. If he just reached out a little he’d be touching her hips and his mouth would be…

Wow, okay, she was stone cold sober and she was supposed to be the one seducing him. 

“You’re trying to kill me, aren't you?” 

Leslie blushed with pride. “So, tonight is dinner and dancing, I was informed,” breath catching when his fingers skimmed her legs for the briefest of seconds. “Are…are you game?” 

“You’ll be there?” he half-growled. 

Holy shit, could they skip dinner? Could they skip everything and just…

“Yes.” 

“Okay,” he seemed to come to his senses, pulling back a little. “I’m game.” 

“Come in the water with me,” she reached for his hand reflexively. Ben took it, but didn’t stand up. 

“New bathing suit?” 

“Uh huh. Ann helped me pick it,” she tugged gently. “Come on Ben, the water’s so nice and your poor shoulders haven’t seen sun yet.” 

He chuckled softly, still holding her fingers. “My poor shoulders are very scrawny and burn easily. I’m so white I might glow in the dark.” 

Her thumb rubbed her skin again. How could holding his hand be doing it for her? 

“All the more reason for it to see some sun. Come swim with me,” she tugged and Ben got to his feet, standing ridiculously close to her. She didn’t step away, though she did lean back and Ben’s arms slid around her. 

“Fuck,” his hands slid up her back and down her arms and holy shit, this was the sexiest thing that had ever happened to her. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, I’m still trying really hard not to kiss you.” 

“I don’t,” she pushed up on tiptoe and held onto his shoulders. “I don’t want to…coerce you into something you’re going to regret but…maybe this will be good and help you take your mind off…” Ben’s fingers pressed into her spine. 

“Look it’s…we’re both trying to not think about other people, right? And I decided I would really like to not think about other people by having sex with you,” she took a breath. “Because I haven’t been with anyone since…Mark and that was like eight months ago, so…” 

Ben groaned and dropped his forehead to hers. “You really are gonna kill me.” 

She giggled and he groaned again. 

“So,” she palmed his cheeks. “That is my…proposition. I’m only here for four more nights and I would like to spend a couple of those having sex with you, but I totally understand if you’re not ready for that and would rather just relax or mope or…whatever. I totally understand. But it would just be some casual, vacation fucking.” 

Wow, she’d never imagined the speech she'd rehearsed with Ann would come out that smoothly. He choked on air and then whispered her name. Leslie's eyes slipped shut and they swayed into each other, Ben’s nails flashing against the small of her back. 

“Don’t answer me yet,” her lips were inches from his and it took everything in her not to kiss him just like that. God, where had this Leslie come from? She liked Vacation-Leslie. Vacation-Leslie was direct and confident. 

“Come swim with me and think about it and you can tell me tonight, okay?” she leaned back, but he was still gripping her, sliding, forcing her to swallow moans. She started to ease away, finding his hand and turning to face the shore. She took a step and then got another Vacation-Leslie spark of inspiration. Spinning around abruptly she grabbed Ben’s face and kissed him hard, slow and deep, refusing to pull away until his moan vibrated against her tongue. His lips were soft and warm and his palms didn’t seem as startled as the rest of him, moving up to cup her face and neck in a way that wasn’t at all "dirty, casual, vacation hookup" and instead was totally intimate. He tasted like nothing, like Ben, and Leslie enjoyed that. Her stomach lurched and she swayed into him, sighing back as their noses bumped. 

She gave him a little grin and shrugged when they finally broke apart. 

“Think about that too.” 

She cackled deliriously when he whined her name as she yanked him towards the ocean.


	6. Rule 12: Don’t Feel Weird About Anything (GET YOURS!).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, this chapter was supposed to be the first part of a larger chapter and it got too long. Also, it's explicit. Just fyi. 
> 
> Thank you again beautiful tree sharks for leaving comments/kudos. They continue to make me very happy.

Ben wasn’t at dinner, so that had sent Leslie spiralling a touch. After a very aggressive splash fight in the ocean (no, it wasn't little flicks of water and giggles over a crescendo of happy music, it was a _fight_ \- dunking, cackling, climbing on his back,) she’d gone to her room with Ann to get ready for dinner and Ben had left her with a quick kiss on the cheek and a little, affectionate squeeze of her arm. 

When they’d gotten to dinner Chris had apologized quietly for Ben’s absence, saying he’d had to take a _very_ important phone call in the room and would meet up with them later. Leslie was pretty certain the color had drained from her face and Ann’s hand settled on her leg, where it stayed until they made it through the bread basket and she subtly queried on Leslie’s behalf who the call was with.   “It was about a birthday present he had to cancel for…” Chris trailed off tactfully with a flourish of his wrist and Leslie’s insides started to churn. He’d obviously bought his girlfriend a birthday present and obviously…obviously that was what he was dealing with. Crap, what if he was too upset to…what if he changed his mind? She’d already decided she didn’t want to hookup with anyone but Ben, because even though there were certainly other cute guys hanging around he just… 

It didn’t just feel like a sleazy one to four night stand, it felt like they could be good for each other right now. And that, somehow, made it all seem more significant. 

Plus, Ben was sweet and kissed awesomely and she bet he did other stuff awesomely as well and god, she was throbbing at the thought of it. 

And then she saw him, already at a table in the club, a beer bottle in front of him in a shirt and khakis, studying the veins in his hands. He looked pensive, but okay, and his hair was messy and still adorable. Leslie’s breath caught in her throat and Ann gave her a little nudge. 

“Are you…?” 

_Good?_ Leslie finished for her. 

“Yes, I just,” she pursed her lips together tightly. “I’ll be right back.” 

The DJ looked at her like she had three heads when she made her request, but she flailed and gestured enough that he finally conceded, while assuring Leslie her song choice would be mixed with some other, more appropriate dancing music. She called that a win and ran over to Ben.

“HI!” she leaned over the table where he was sitting. Ben’s mouth curved upwards and he sat back in the booth, taking a swig of his beer.

“Hey.” 

She wanted to ask if he’d thought about what she’d propositioned. She wanted to ask if what she was about to suggest was okay, but something stopped the words from forming. Something made her tongue swell and the colors of the room blur without more than a couple of sips of wine in her. 

It was the way he was looking at her, she realized with a racing pulse. The way he smiled slightly, but genuinely when she hadn’t said more than “hi” to him; the way his hand stretched out to find hers on the table and his smile widened when they connected, imperceptible to anyone but her. 

Where was Ann? Was Ann seeing this? Was this how vacation flings worked? A constant bubble of happy, wonderful, soul satiating perfection? She was supposed to feel like she was glowing, right? As if she was so happy she could float up to the ceiling and stay there? 

_Casual sex, casual sex, casual sex. This is just casual sex._ She knew that and she didn’t want to do what she’d done with Mark where a few blissful moments between the sheets had felt more meaningful than they were. She would not make that mistake again. No matter how good it was, or what Ben said in the throes of passion, this was casual sex. 

“I, we,” she angled her eyes down and blushed. “No _I_ , I, Leslie, missed you, Benjamin, at dinner.” 

Casual sex meant she should be honest and she honestly had missed him and not just because Chris and Ann had spent a little too much of their meal making _eat me_ eyes at each other. 

“Sorry,” he squeezed her fingers. “I got this confirmation email thing when I went back to the room and was trying to cancel something I pre-ordered months ago for…” the hand not holding hers clawed at his cheek. “You know what, it doesn’t matter.” 

“Did you cancel it?” 

“I did, actually,” he tugged gently on her arm. “After being transferred a lot. Come sit with me. You want a drink?” 

“Dance with me?” It came out nervous. Leslie from the beach that afternoon wasn’t anywhere to be found. She was inexplicably anxious and uncertain. You’d think she’d never danced with a guy and then boned him before. 

Well to be fair, not this painstakingly sober. Not for a random hookup. 

He chuckled softly and rubbed his forehead. “I’m not much of a, uh…” 

She smiled in a way she hoped was seductive and Ben sighed, his subtle smile now a full-fledged grin. 

“Yeah, alright.” 

Leslie beamed and tugged him to the floor. 

He was terrible and she told him so. Ben chuckled low in his throat and cupped her waist in his big hands that she was already picturing all over he later. Because yes, this was super happening, even if she was nervous.

“Why don’t you move your hiiiiips,” she wiggled suggestively and he laughed loudly like he had in the water that afternoon, pressing his face into her hair. She cackled when his hips bump against hers and roll out of sync. The music was thumping in her ears and she knew she was half yelling to make herself heard, but it still felt close and intimate. 

“Fuck,” he muttered. “You are gonna get me in so much trouble.” 

“With who?” she blinked up at him curiously. “Cara broke up with you.” 

“Who’s Cara?” he quipped, bumping his mouth along her jaw to her ear. Leslie shivered. “You’re really pretty.” 

She giggled and pressed her face to his chest while his arms wound around her, craning her neck up to stare at him.

“What?” he poked her nose. 

“I like when I can see your eyes,” her hands reached up and the pads of her thumbs stroked his cheekbones. The music was pounding in her ears the same way blood pounded through her veins; there was mist or a smoke machine, or something distorting her vision and the whole situation was hazy and surreal. 

“I can dance better like this,” he tightened his arms on her. When the song changed - finally - she felt him stiffen in her arms. 

“Is this…?” he pulled back with a perplexed expression and pointed a finger at the sky. “Are they playing REM?” 

“ _Drive_ ,” she smiled in a way she hoped was casual like this fling she super wanted them to be about to have. “Do you like that one?” 

“How the…why would they…how did you even…?” 

She cackled delightedly as he pulled her closer. “He said they’d mix it or something so…it’s not quite the same, but…”

Ben kissed her while she trailed off, her chin between his fingers. It was light, fluttery and wet, and somehow electrified her senses in a way she couldn’t remember feeling before. God, she really needed to get him to bed. If a simple kiss could make her stomach drop so fast her head started to spin, what could the rest of him do? Vacation sex was going to be awesome. 

Ben’s lips dragged across her cheek and bumped her earlobe. “You smell like the sun, by the way,” he pressed his nose to her hair. Leslie squeezed her eyes shut and tried to press closer to his chest, even though it was disgustingly hot and she was sweating like a pig. 

“Probably my sunscreen.” 

“No, not like sunscreen, like the sun,” one hand slid into the damp curls at the nape of her neck. “How’d you get the DJ to play REM?” 

“I’m very persuasive,” she murmured, dragging his lips to meet hers. It was too loud to really talk and she figured as soon as the song ended they could leave and hopefully go back to her room where she could hear as much as feel his breath hitch when her fingers gripped him. Ben kissed with precision, methodically teasing her mouth open and murmuring nonsense into her lips. Occasionally he would nip, or scrape his nails down her bare arm just to make her toes curl. When he eased back to smile against her jaw Leslie’s whole body flooded with delicious heat.

“Mhmm,” she pressed her face to his chest. “Okay yeah, you dance a lot better when REM is playing.” 

“Thanks,” she groaned as he slid up her jaw and his mouth found hers again. 

“How drunk are you? On a scale of one to yesterday…?” 

“Like a two and a half. I had wine at dinner. You?” 

“About a two,” he tapped her chin and his lips slid against hers. They both sighed into each other until he started pressing sloppy, wet kisses, one after another. She laughed and pushed her hands through his hair, pressing up on her toes to keep his mouth hard against hers. As the song ended, someone crashed into her and Leslie yelped, spinning to address the culprit as Ben’s arms curled around her. The guy with bleary eyes and curly blonde hair fell into her again and Ben gave him a gentle-but-firm shove. 

“Dude, watch it,” he sounded irritated, but calm and shot Leslie a little eye roll. His mouth found hers again, more warm, sloppy sweet kisses that made everything under her skin churn with desire. The house music was back, making her ears throb when Ben broke away, nudging her towards the door. 

As soon as the sea breeze hit her face, Ben’s arms found her waist and his face landed in her neck. 

“Fresh air is good." 

“Yes.” 

It was hard to get fresh air when his tongue was in her mouth, but he could breathe for her as far as Leslie was concerned. She spun and he lifted her into him, fingers digging into her skin. When his hand cupped her ass she moaned and lolled her head to the side. Ben kissed down her neck. 

“Your…your room?” 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” she tugged on his hair while her other hand reached down to squeeze his butt. She’d finally paid notice to it when they were in the ocean and his bathing suit was clinging and yeah, he had an awesomely cute butt that she was going to dig her nails into when it was naked. 

The walk to the room was actually more of a stumble and not because of alcohol. Because Ben’s hands stay on her hips and his mouth kept finding her neck and it was like her night with Mark in that sense, but also so, so not. With Mark there wasn’t a lot of talking or touching without purpose. Everything had been so precarious, as if they were balancing on the edge of a knife and one wrong move would mean the end of whatever it was. With Ben it was roaming, caressing and affectionate smiles and little kisses to exposed skin that did nothing to speed along the endgame but made her delirious. 

And okay, yes, in the back of her mind Leslie had been wondering whether Mark even knew it was her that night. Which hurt, god that really hurt, even now. She’d been repressing that for so long and now was when it chose to filter through her subconscious and demand acknowledgement. It made her eyes sting as they fumbled into the main building and moved towards the elevator. 

“Hey,” Ben’s voice was low as they stepped through the doors, arm slung around her waist. “You alright? I know you said, but we really don’t have to…” 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” there was a lump in her throat and her vision was blurring. Ben twisted her to face him and studied her hard. 

“Leslie.” 

“I’m sorry,” she managed to keep her voice even. “I’m really sorry. I do want to. I don’t know why I’m…” 

“What are you thinking about?” his arms slid around her securely and his face landed in her hair. They both breathed. 

“Mark,” she admitted, reluctantly. Because thinking about Mark while another guy was making out with you was definitely a no-no and she didn’t need Ann to tell her that. “I was thinking about how he probably didn’t even realize it was me until the next…” 

She waved her hands vigorously and pulled back, eyes stinging as the words scratched her throat. 

“But it doesn’t matter. It’s done, it’s been done for a while. I don’t know why I thought of that now…I'm sorry,” she placed her hands on his shoulders and tried to smile. “What about you? What are you thinking about?” 

“You,” he chuckled in that self-deprecating way again, hot mouth on her skin. “Leslie Knope. And how badly I want to kiss you again.” 

“Oh,” that made her smile for real. “I’m sorry,” she sighed. “You’re being really nice and I’m just…” 

“You’re fine,” he shrugged as the elevator doors open. His hand remained locked with hers. “It’s shitty, it’s…someone always seems to feel more in these things, you know?” he shrugged offhandedly with a crooked little smile. 

She didn’t know how to respond to that, because something deep down inside Leslie was telling her this little, casual vacation fling already had enough ammo to at least partially crush her. She pushed that away to deal with later.

Ben kissed her into the door of room 421, and it was needy but also sweet, his hands holding her hips and staying there while she stroked his cheeks and smiled into it. 

“Do you uh…” his nose brushed against hers. “If you still want to do…do you have - ”

“I brought a jumbo-pack of condoms.” 

“Oh, thank god,” he laughed into her hair as she fished through her purse for her keycard. Her fingers were trembling as she tried to open the door but the stupid amber light kept blinking at her, mocking. Ben kissed her ear and peeled it away, steady hands succeeding in earning them a green light. 

She’d barely stepped through the door when Ben was shoving her against it. Leslie yelped, pain shooting up the base of her skull and gripping his biceps. 

“Sorry,” he whispered, pulling one arm away to cup the back of her head. He kissed her nose. “Sorry, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she giggled and pushed into him, groaning when she finally felt his hard dick against her belly. Ben groaned too and picked her up easily, depositing her on the bed with a kiss. She laughed and her limbs flailed but then Ben caught her heel and kissed the top of her foot, sliding his wet, swollen lips along her ankle and then to the inside of her knee before climbing over her and seeking out her tongue again. Holy shit, he was an awesome kisser. She had to tell Ann about that. His index finger dipped under the strap of her dress, his gentle pressure electrifying the skin under his touch. He rested on his elbow, his palm smoothing over her shoulder as he nipped down her neck and snuffled into her skin. 

“I think you have sugar coming out of your pores.” 

She giggled as his lips reached the tops of her breasts. His nose pressed to her cleavage, Ben inhaled, and it was just so…consuming. It was as if he wanted his senses to be assaulted by her, to taste her, touch her, smell her; as if he wanted to sink under her skin and stay there. Nobody had ever fucked her like this, in a strange juxtaposition of thoughtful and overwhelmed.

 The arm resting on the bed came up and brushed her side. 

“Is there,” his teeth flashed against her throat, sending a throb of desire to her core. “A zipper or something?” 

“Mhm!” she made to push up onto her elbows, but Ben’s palm on her abdomen held her to the mattress. 

“Tell me where.” 

“This…” she gestured a little to her right, afraid to move too much. Ben’s dark eyes flicked up to hers and he kissed her chin, twisting his fingers in her hair as he ran his tongue over her earlobe. Leslie moaned. 

“Tell me,” he growled. 

“The…side.” 

His hands moved hastily, tugging the zipper down with one while the other propped her up to peel it over her head and chuck into behind him. Ben pulled back long enough to take her in before rubbing his vacation scruff against the pale skin of her belly. 

She sat up and swatted his hands away when he tried to push her back. 

“Nah uh, I showed you mine. Take it off, Wyatt.” 

His hair went everywhere when she unceremoniously yanked his shirt over his head and then went straight for his pants. It was hard to successfully unzip khakis when a cute guy with an amazing mouth was doing incredible things to the patch of skin behind your ear you didn’t even know was an erogenous zone. But fuck, her panties flooded with need again as soon as his tongue made contact, and it was all she could do to hold on and keep her hands steady, bumping against his hardening cock. 

“Need some help?” he teased. Competitiveness flared within Leslie and she lifted her head, eyes blazing. Ben grinned cockily. 

“No, Mr. Wyatt, I do not need _help_. I know how to undo pants, thank you.” 

“Really?” he tugged her earlobe between his teeth. “Because you’re sure taking a while.” 

Leslie snarled and jumped up, breasts bouncing as she threw Ben to the bed beneath her and climbed on top of him. His eyes went wide and his jaw hung slack as she straddled him, damp cotton rubbing against the front of his khakis, and slid her tongue passed his lips until he groaned. 

“Shit,” His grip on her hips was bruising, but Leslie ignored it, kissing down his pale chest with a light dusting of dark hair until she reached his belly button. When she blew a raspberry he smacked her, the contact making her skin burn as he rolled her and kissed her gently. 

Ben stood up, dragging his lips down her body as he went, and shoved his khakis to the floor, his boxers tenting with his full-on erection now. He reached forward and yanked her panties off without asking permission, settling on the carpet on his knees and tugging her hips to the edge of the…

 _Whoa_. He nuzzled the damp crest of her thigh and kissed her curls lightly. This should make her self-conscious, a new guy’s face so close to her after she’d been dancing in a sweaty club, but it didn't. Ben eased back and kissed her knee, two long fingers stroking the sides of her ass. He kissed her other knee while he pulled one hand to her centre and stroked her outer lips faintly. Leslie shuddered. 

“You smell like vanilla cupcakes, Leslie Knope,” he muttered into the top of her hip. “Anyone ever told you that?” 

“It’s my travel body wash,” a hand darted out to touch his hair. Ben held her gaze while his fingers parted her, flicked against her clit and then slid inside. Leslie arched into him, chest heaving as he licked his way back down. He checked her face before pressing his lips to her damp curls again. 

“B-Ben,” she murmured, hand tightening in his hair. He smiled as his tongue darted out to lap gently. His groan vibrated through her and Leslie’s head dropped back with a sigh. 

“Good?” he panted. She managed to reassuringly palm his cheek, eyes fixated on the ceiling. Ben’s face turned in her hand and he kissed her palm before moving back to where he’d been, fingers having never stopped pumping. 

When he started lapping again it was indelicate. Frantic and uneven as his fingers twisted and rubbed in all the right places while she squirmed and moaned, forgetting to swallow her cries or even grapple for a pillow to muffle them. Ben moaned too into her - always into her - his tongue replacing his fingers and thrusting while he pinned her hips to the mattress. Her orgasm was a surprise, no build up, no warning, it came fast and sharp and every muscle in her body seems to jolt in release. She yanked on his hair and bucked into him, babbling incoherently. 

Ben’s wet, sticky mouth nuzzled her thigh before he pulled away completely and wiped his face on the sheet. He crawled up her body and she caught the rug burn on his knees, grinning just a little as the warm release sunk her bonelessly into the mattress. 

“ _Mhmmm_ ,” she sighed. “Thanks. You’re really good at that.” 

Ben snorted and tugged on her bottom lip with his teeth. She tasted herself which made her feel dizzy with delight. 

“You’re welcome…” He kissed her again, but the bed was amazing and everything was so delicious and hazy she could’ve fallen asleep right that instant. That had never happened - an orgasm had never made her tired before. That could come in handy on nights when she was way too stressed out to sleep and there was no work to be done and…

Not that Ben would be there. Ben was a casual vacation hookup who seemed to enjoy eating her out as much as she’d enjoyed having it done. Right. _Casual vacation hookup, remember the binder, Leslie._

“Babe,” his gave her nipple a gentle tug with his lips. “Where’s your…” 

“Oh!” she sprung up. “But it’s your turn - ”

“I won’t last,” he declared matter-of-factly. “Just tell me where they are.” 

“Big…front compartment of my suitcase,” she tugged his boxers off completely before he could pull away and laughed breathlessly when he wiggled them down his hips. His cock sprung free, beads of moisture already on the head, and wow, she totally needed to lick that later. After it was inside her. 

Vacation sex was awesome. She was already batting a thousand for orgasm attempts. 

She might, accidentally, have blurted this out, but only because Ben turned around to find a condom and she caught sight of his super cute bare ass that she kind of wanted to bite…

Whoa, okay, this was getting out of control. 

“I played baseball in high school,” he stated conversationally, as if his cock wasn’t bobbing and leaking while he stood naked searching for a box of Trojans. “So I appreciate that analogy.” 

“What position?” 

“Shortstop. I had to cover a lot of ground.” He winked and the delicious, sleepy warmth was replaced with a burning low in her belly. God, he needed to fuck her. 

When he found the box, finally, he ripped it and tore one open, stroking himself roughly a few times before sliding the condom on and padding back over to her. She wanted to whine when she couldn’t see his butt anymore, but then Ben was lifting her up the bed, dick rubbing through her as they adjusted for position. 

He smiled and kissed her and the stars aligned and Ben sunk into her. They both groaned when he hit bottom, his forehead resting against hers. The rocking started slowly, amidst little off-center kisses and light laughs. That was, until Ben hiked her leg up over his hip and started to thrust more fully, tilting her and sliding home, drawing some breathy gasps from both of them. His rhythm changed and he sped up, nipping at her neck and slamming a little harder with each pass. Her walls were on fire, throbbing and contracting against him as his groans filtered through her pores. 

“Good?” 

“Mhmmmmmm.” She sighed dreamily. It was great, pleasant heat coiling where they were joined and filtering through to the tips of her fingers and toes. Ben growled with unexplained frustration and tilted her hips again, hitting a new spot that - _whoa_ , that was different. 

“There?” he sounded like he was begging and she nodded eagerly, pushing back into him now. _Oh god, yes, yes, yes, there_. She finally understood why people cried that out in movies - what he was doing to her now was exactly why. Her nails flashed down his back and Ben bit her shoulder. 

“Close?” 

She nodded, even though she really had no idea, it felt good, a slow warmth building in her depths but it was hard to know how long she had to - Ben’s fingers darted between them and his thumb flicked her clit. She cried out. 

“Yes, yes,” she wanted his lips on hers, smothering her, so she yanked his head down and groaned against his tongue. Ben’s fingers, surprisingly, didn’t linger, instead he rubbed the crest of her thigh and then her hip bone, before sliding up the back of her leg and pulling it onto his shoulder as his pace and pressure increased in tandem and - 

She saw stars or lightning or god or something, because every cell in her body seemed to get there all at once. She screamed, teeth clamping down on his chest as the leg still around his waist clenched and her head fell back in a blissful haze. 

Ben kissed her breasts, rhythm growing sloppy. It wasn’t long after that until he made a guttural noise into her chest and exploded against her with a sigh. She whimpered when he slowed and slumped into her embrace. 

_Whoa._

Ben murmured her name in a way that made her chest tighten, and rubbed her hip joint, easing her leg off his shoulder. It was only then Leslie realized she was aching, but pleasantly so.

Ben kissed her bottom lip and even though her arms felt like lead, Leslie lifted them to brush his hair back. He smiled and cupped her face with one big hand.

 “Sorry, was that…” he brushed the spot where his lips had clamped down on her skin at a point she couldn't even recall. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?” 

Animal Ben, that had literally just been fucking the life out of her, had shrunk back to sweet Ben who covered her with a t-shirt the night before and asked them to send extra sugar to her room. She didn’t know how to answer the question because yes, him biting her had stung, but it had also made everything inside her spark alive…

So, she just kissed him instead and heard him chuckle into her lips. Her tongue salved the mark on his chest she’d left and her fingernails had definitely made streaks down his back, arms and ass. That…was intense. She’d never had sex like that before…or at least, never enjoyed sex like that before. 

He was so deep inside her it almost hurt when he slipped out and they both sighed as their heart rates slowed down. 

“I’m gonna go…clean up.” 

She rolled onto her side and made a little noise of pleasure when she saw his butt walking away. The sound of running water started up a few seconds later, and Leslie contemplated getting herself up too, but her body was still thrumming, her muscles burning, and what she really wanted was to sink into her pillows and sleep for a while. 

Ben had pulled on his boxers when he reemerged and she was too tired to pout, so instead she just watched him turn out the lights and held out an arm for him to join her. 

“Your hair is a messy,” she whispered, patting it down. Ben laughed and did the same to hers, one hand slipping to cup her ass. Everything felt so potent and virile, Leslie found herself wondering if they put something in the water of these Caribbean seas. 

Could she tell him that was awesome? That she’d never come that hard in her life? Would that go to his head? Be inappropriate? Was that something you saved for girlfriends when you were back on home soil? 

She needed a page of FAQs for her idea binder, she decided as her eyelids drooped shut. 

“Leslie?” She also found herself wondering if he was making a point to say her name. She liked hearing it, especially when he'd come trembling in her arms. Ben shifted, cradling her against his side. She lifted her head and he held the back of it. 

“We forgot to put the sign on the door. What are the chances you’ll be awake before housekeeping shows up?” 

“Oh, a hundred percent,” she smiled and he kissed her teeth as she snuggled back down. His fingers were still stroking her bare back as she slipped into dreamland, Ben’s soft chuckle into her shoulder the last thing she recalled.


	7. Rule 16: Avoid Excessive Cuddling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello beautiful, noble land mermaids. Thank you so much for continue to read/leave comments/kudos. (Are you sick of me saying this yet? Because it's still true, I so so so sooooo appreciate it). 
> 
> If you need a review of "the binder rules" check out chapter one/ 
> 
> <3

Leslie stood at the edge of the bed, wearing one of the hotel bathrobes and twirling a curl around her finger. It was morning and she was spiralling because she had no idea what was supposed to happen next and there was no one to call or text to ask. Stupid roaming fees. 

The sun was coming up and Ben Wyatt was naked and asleep but stirring in her bed, his cute face mashed into a pillow with his mouth hanging agape. Her lady parts throbbed and her insides felt a jumbled mess when she recalled the events of very late the night before (or very early that day, depending on how you looked at it). After the first…event, they’d dozed off for a little while and then she’d been woken up with kisses and a low laugh sending shivers down her spine. He’d fucked her three times throughout the night and she couldn’t remember the last time she’d slept that deeply. 

Leslie had been up for a little under twenty minutes, wearing a hole in the carpet as she considered everything - the way her limbs trembled from exertion, the way her joints ached from Ben putting her where he’d wanted her and the bite marks and bruises that covered her skin. She looked well fucked - one glance in the bathroom mirror had confirmed that, and felt strange and exhilarated and honestly, a little vulnerable. Which, more than anything, was what had forced her out of bed, in hopes decreasing proximity to him would help her think more clearly. 

It hadn’t. 

When Ben finally gained consciousness his brow furrowed and he started patting the empty space beside him. 

“Les - oh,” he sat up and gave her the sweetest, goofiest smile, his hair sticking up at crazy angles and the covers pooling at his waist. The anxiety started to dissipate just from that. He’d called her a lot of things in the throes of passion, _babe, baby, honey_ just like Mark had, but he’d said her name just as much. _Leslie, Les, Knope_ , all soft and stilted as he gasped for breath in a way that was forever burned in her brain. Nobody had ever said her name like that before - she’d never felt that desired, that _good_ at sex before.

It was strange to feel so exposed and so powerful at the same time, but with Ben's sleepy smile on her she started to warm. 

“Hey.” Her voice sounded shaky to her own ears, probably because his was thick and gravelly with sleep. Ugh, she liked him and Leslie wasn’t sure if that was because of what had happened in bed, or because she _liked him_ and he also just happened to be really sexy and sweet and great in bed too. 

“What…are you…okay?” 

It was just a casual vacation fling. She had to keep telling herself that, no matter what she was thinking or feeling. It took two to tango and Ben was just out of a long term relationship and this easy, relaxed vibe was what he wanted, not her strung out over wanting too much in return. 

And if Ben wanted to dash out the door and avoid her until they left the island, that was fine. That was why it was a casual vacation hookup. She wouldn’t get secretly upset like she had with Mark when she made them pancakes and he'd kissed her cheek and said he should probably just go. She understood the rules, even if she didn't like them. 

“I…was going to shower,” she explained hurriedly. “Because this is just a super chill, cool, casual vacation hookup thing, so I’ll shower and then you’re…you can go because it’s cool and casual and…okay, great! Glad we had this talk!” 

That sounded chill, right? She didn’t sound upset. 

At least she didn’t think she had until Ben frowned, hair still messy and adorable and fuck, her hands had been all up in that last night. If nothing else, that was a memory she was taking with her. 

“You want me to go?” he lowered his eyes, scanning the floor for his clothes. “Uh, okay, just uh - ”

Wait, did he sound… _hurt_? 

 “NO!” Okay that was a little too emphatic. “I don’t…I’m not kicking you out, I’m just saying it’s vacation sex, what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, so I’m not… you are under no obligation to stay for any longer than you want and I won’t be weird about it. I just get up really early so it’s hard for guys…to leave before I wake up, so…I’m just telling you you’re free to go…and I won’t be upset and I know what this is and I’m perfectly clear on…the rules…”

There was nothing in the binder about contingencies for when casual vacation flings fucked you so well you forgot you weren’t supposed to feel anything but the pleasure of the moment. 

“O-okay,” Ben rubbed his forehead, he looked annoyed or, at the very least, irritated he’d woken up to her ramblings. “Leslie, you’re…we’re not in Vegas, you do realize…” 

“It’s a figure of speech, Benjamin!” 

“Leslie," he sighed, obviously exasperated now. “Do you want me to go?” 

“Only if you want to go.” She didn’t feel sexy or confident anymore, but small and uncertain. 

“I really don’t…at all…” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Can you…come here a second?” 

Leslie obeyed, though why she wasn’t sure. When she settled on the mattress he cupped her face and kissed her as if it wasn’t the morning after a one night stand and they didn’t both have horrible breath. And she melted, she sank into him like the moment could last forever and he wouldn’t get up and get dressed and never call her again. It was Mark all over again, except Mark's hands hadn’t slid through her hair like he too was cataloguing everything about this instant in time when there was nothing between them but terrycloth. 

“Uh, hey, good morning” Ben swallowed hard. “Sorry, you seemed like you were thinking too hard or something and I really…wanted to do that. And also not go. Like at all. And last night was pretty awesome and…yeah, hi.” 

His hand sifted through her hair and she sighed. 

“But we’re chill. Cool. Casual. Totally not….totally cool. I’m chill. Are you - ”

She kissed him again, the anxiety that had been bubbling within her spilling into it. Okay, it was totally different than Mark. Ben Wyatt was going to break her heart in a totally different, more devastating way. Leslie didn’t want him to call her back, she wanted him to never leave. She wanted him to keep kissing her like it was the most important task that ever needed doing and tell her sweet things and make her see stars. 

“So, it’s…I understand the rules of a vacation hookup,” he tucked a curl behind her ear. “But as I see it, we’re still on vacation,” his fingers slid down her neck and his mouth slipped to her shoulder. “So, I think you should lie down here with me,” Ben kept his arm around her and squirmed down to the mattress. “Right here until at least the normal people start to wake up. And then we should get some breakfast and figure out what our plan should be for the day…” She giggled and he nuzzled her. 

“I don’t sleep that much.” 

“No kidding,” he tilted her chin and devored her with his lips again. “You were chatty.” 

 “Oh my god,” she hid her face in his neck. “I’m so sorry. I talk a lot in my sleep.” 

“You were very concerned about the national debt and also raccoons. I liked your education platform, but your economic strategies could definitely use some work.” 

She giggled because Ben sounded amused as she dragged his mouth back to hers. His mouth was awesome and smart and did awesome things against her. 

“Please lose this,” he tugged on her robe until she squirmed out of it and tossed it aside. His hand was back in his hair and they were kissing again and oh god, could she die like this? Warm and happy and feeling…

So much. She was feeling so much. 

Too much, probably. But she was Leslie Knope, that was par for the course. 

Ben rolled onto his back, tugging her with him. He cupped the back of her head and settled it in the crook of his neck. She sighed contently. 

“Like, an hour,” he murmured with another yawn. “Just give me an hour and then we’ll do whatever you want…” 

He tangled their fingers against his chest and Leslie was pretty sure he could’ve asked for anything then and she would’ve given it to him. Less than a minute later Ben’s breathing had levelled out and his hand had stopped moving against her. 

When Ben woke up an hour and twenty-one minutes later it was with a sleepy rumble of her name and a dopey-cute smile on his lips before his eyes even opened. They called down to the front desk and got him a tooth brush and made out with morning breath until it arrived. It felt too easy, too natural to be a one night stand. Brushing her teeth next to him, skin bumping skin whenever they could, it could’ve seriously been a Sarah McLachlan song. 

When they both had fresh breath he kissed her again (lighter this time, with a closed mouth, a little smile and his finger on her chin), before guiding her into the shower stall without a word. They made out a lot more and soaped each other up and every time Ben laughed her stomach twisted with desire. 

But not sexual desire. Desire to know more about him, see what other things she could say or do to make him chuckle in her hair or snicker behind his hand. A desire to hear what changes he would make to her economics platform and what his concerns about the national debt were. She wanted to hear about his election campaign, being impeached, what his family was like, his favourite part of college. Leslie wanted him to trust her with his secrets and ambitions and - 

Oh, crap on a starfish, she might be totally screwed. 

They headed down to breakfast as soon as the restaurant opened. While Leslie was watching her waffles cook and politely asking for a whole bowl of whipped cream, she caught Ben’s eye at the omelet stand and he gave her a little smile. 

Four days, three more nights, was that really all she got? Four days of being blissfully happy? Of feeling awesomely sexual and powerful and significant? That didn’t seem fair. 

Indianapolis wasn’t that far from Pawnee. Maybe they could take turns visiting each other. Maybe his next town would be closer to Pawnee and they could go on real dates and she could take him on a whirlwind tour, and she’d tidy her house (Ann would make her) and bake cookies and they’d drink wine and cuddle all night… 

Ben wouldn’t want that though, and that thought made the tears return to her eyes. Ben was on the rebound and it was a little fun to take the edge off. It ended when she got on a plane back home in four days. 

“What’s up?” Ben appeared beside her, holding his plate as she accepted her waffles. She managed a smile as he casually draped an arm around her like it was meant to be there. 

“You wanna go into town or something today? Explore a little? Orrrrr, we could sit by the pool or on the beach and go kayaking… Or,” he dropped his mouth to her ear so waffle guy couldn’t hear. “I mean, if you wanted to just go back to bed and do that…thing you did last night…” 

He kissed her earlobe and her stomach lurched. Leslie squeezed her eyes shut and took a few deep breaths. Fleeting or not, she would enjoy these three nights and cry her eyes out on the plane ride home while Ann stroked her hair. 

“Well, I do…” her cheeks flamed. “I would like to do more of that, but I also might need a…break.” 

His lips twitched with amusement and he rubbed her hip joint right where it was aching as he steered her towards a table. 

“Okay, what should we do then?” 

“Well,” she settled in a metal chair across from him while Ben quietly asked one of the waiters for coffee. 

“I did want to go into the city and maybe do a self-guided tour. I brought some books and I love historical tours and it sounds really amazing and there are lots of old buildings from colonization. But that’s…probably pretty boring for you, right?” 

She was kind of testing him, hoping he would say something that would make her like him less. Leslie was hoping to give herself something to cling to besides “he pretended to be a mean jerk at first” when everything ended and she started to miss him. 

“Sure, that sounds fun,” Ben commented with an easy shrug. “Are you the tour guide?” 

_Dammit, Ben._

“Oh, are you…sure? Because Ann said it sounded boring and you’d probably rather relax and hang out by the pool and I totally wouldn’t mind going for a few hours alone - ”

“Do you want to go alone?” Ben lifted an eyebrow as his coffee cup was filled. God, he was frustrating. Why did he keep answering her questions with questions? 

“No. I _could_ \- ”

“It doesn’t sound boring to me,” he shrugged again, and held out her cup so it could be filled too. He murmured something about more sugar before she could do it herself. 

Leslie took a bite of her waffles and tried to calm herself down, tried to assure herself that anyone could seem amazing and perfect after a few days and that’s why vacation flings worked - because you never had to see anyone beyond the initial amazingness. 

“What about whipped cream?" she tried. "Do you hate whipped cream?” 

Ben looked amused. “I don't like it as much as you, Knope. But I don’t hate it.”

He reached over, taking her chin between his fingers and swiping some whipped cream off her lip before kissing her lightly. 

“And I like how it tastes on you,” he nipped. “Also, I bet you’re a kickass tourguide.” 

“Oh, I am,” she grinned back, she couldn’t help it.

“Great,” he released her and took a sip of coffee, smile still playing on his lips. 

Yup, she was screwed. 

*****

“I leave Friday, actually.” 

Her heart sank so fast Leslie almost passed out. 

“W-what?” 

Ben sighed, getting up off the bed, padding over to where she was standing and flicking a piece of hair off her shoulder. 

“We got here a day before you guys, we leave Friday.” 

“Are you kidding me right now?!” Leslie blurted out, whirling to face him with eyes bulging.

“I uh,” he dipped down and kissed her ear. “Sorry, I thought you knew.” 

“S-so,” she forced away the lump in her throat, because this was a _casual vacation fling_ and what was one day in the grand scheme of things. “We have tonight and tomorrow night and then…” 

“Yeah,” he kissed along her jaw in a way that was unhelpful at stopping the back of her throat from aching. “So - ”

“Well, that’s cool! Totally cool! It’s a completely fun, casual, vacation hookup situation and what’s one more night, right? I mean, it’s a night of awesome sex lost, but that’s - ”

Ben’s mouth landed on hers, effectively shutting her up. His arms curled around her waist and he sighed, when they pulled away to breathe. 

“I’m…I would like to continue to have an amazing time with you for as long as I possibly can,” his thumb rubbed the back of her neck. “I’m sorry, I thought Ann would’ve…I’m so sorry,” he kissed her temple and turned back to her suitcase. 

“It’s okay,” she patted his arm. “I’m just having a lot of fun with you. Not just the sex either, just…talking to you.” 

“Me too,” he rubbed her shoulders. “Also, not that I was snooping or anything, but uh…what’s this?” 

Leslie followed his finger, blushing when she saw her _How to Hookup on Vacation_ binder poking out under a pile of t-shirts. Crap. 

“That’s…my idea binder.” 

“For vacation sex,” Ben bit his lip adorably. 

“Um, yes, that.” 

“You have ideas for…vacation sex?” 

“Well,” she gestured frantically, reaching for the binder. “I mean there are some rules and some suggestions for sexual acts and positions and just a general framework for how to have a successful vacation hookup.”

He was totally trying not to laugh at her. 

“So, you had a plan to seduce me all along.” 

“Well,” she squared her shoulders. “Not you _specifically_ …” 

Something she couldn’t place flickered behind Ben’s eyes. He leaned into her. 

“Can...Can I see it?” 

“Um…” Could he? Was that appropriate? 

“Just…” he plucked it from her hands and she let him. “Just because since I am your chosen vacation sex partner, I should see what you hoped to accomplish so we can work out an appropriate timeline to fulfill the required…acts.” 

His teeth flashed against her earlobe and she moaned. 

“And as responsible government employees we understand the importance of idea brainstorming and adhering to timelines and general productivity, so if there was a set number of things you wanted to accomplish, I would hate to…not assist you in that.” 

“Okay.” 

Ben grinned and tugged her towards the bed. 

Five minutes later they were sitting on top of her covers, Ben’s palm on her thigh and his chin on her shoulder while she read the list of rules (after he’d spent several of those initial minutes snickering at her cover artwork and telling her she was a goofball). 

“Wait,” he ran his finger over Rule 1. “You don’t like me as a person?” 

_Shit._

“No…I do…I kind of broke that one. I mean, I didn’t initially but now I do.” 

He kissed her neck and skimmed over the next few, since most of them talked about Mark and Vegas and stuff they’d already clearly broken or discussed. He chortled into her skin when he saw Rule 6 and 7. 

“I mean…we mixed it up last night.” 

Leslie groaned internally, recalling how his angular hips felt clenched beneath her thighs as she rode him hard, her front wall burning deliciously as she gripped his shoulders for leverage. 

“So, that’s done,” Ben snatched a pen off the nightstand and put a big checkmark beside Rule 6 and 7 respectively. He then went back and scratched out Rule 1. Leslie giggled into his hair because it was so silly, but also so cute. 

He licked his lips when his eyes skimmed over Rule 8. 

“We did that too.” 

Oh boy, had they done that. She’d tried that position a few times, but hadn’t understood the appeal of something that didn’t allow her to kiss them or touch them… Until last night. That had hit everything right and left her a puddle of nothing whimpering into the sheets. Ben had kissed her right after and held her against him as they came down together. 

“You liked…that, right?” 

“Uh huh.” Leslie would daresay she’d loved it. 

“Good,” he drew another checkmark with a flourish and nibbled along her throat. Leslie bit her tongue to hold back a moan as his finger moved to Rule 9. 

“You haven’t tried that?” 

“Uhhh, no,” she shrugged. “A guy broke up with me in the shower once and then I was never into…showering with guys.” 

“We showered together this morning.” 

“Because you’re my hot, sexy, vacation fling and I’m trying to be adventurous. Also, you kind of just made me…” she hid her face for a second, because it was hard to make Leslie do much, but apparently she was super laid back on vacation and Ben got to call the shots. 

And she kind of liked that. 

“Got it,” he tapped the paper thoughtfully, like she imagined he would in budget meetings. “That’s…a logistical nightmare sometimes…and inefficient,” he slid his mouth to the top of her breast through her t-shirt and then tugged on her bikini strap with his teeth. Okay, he wouldn’t do _that_ in budget meetings. 

“We don’t have to - ”

“No no, we’re going to. It says ‘TRY IT’ so we’re gonna try it. That’s happening,” He drew a circle beside it, leaving room for a check. 

“And if it doesn't work I’ll just go down on you.” 

Clearly Leslie had found the sexiest accounting nerd ever. 

When he got to Rule 10 he just started laughing and put a checkmark with five plus signs beside it before kissing her slowly with lots of tongue. He muttered she was _so sexy_ against her lips and Leslie almost came just from that. 

Rule 11 made him bite his lip. 

“We did that,” she reminded him, as if he needed reminding. They’d hardcore done that and it was excellent and he was just as into it as she was. 

“It says you have to ask me.” 

Suddenly, he was chucking the idea binder to the side and inching her shirt up so he could kiss her belly. He nipped at her hipbone and undid her shorts, wiggling them over her thighs, just above her knees. Ben’s eyes darkened and his stupid smirk returned as he kissed her gently through her bikini bottoms. She moaned softly and he did it again before retreating to her thighs and dragging his tongue along her skin. Her whole body jolted and she arched into him when the tip poked inside her bathing suit. He retreated again, but his fingers slid right where she craved them, touching just a hair too lightly. 

“Good lord, you’re soaked.” 

“Mhmmm idea binders really do it for me.” 

Ben muffled a laugh into her, sending a jolt of need to her toes. 

“Anything you’d like, Ms. Knope?” 

Leslie shuddered and let her eyes fall shut. Ben bit, smoothing his thumb over the red mark. 

“Yes.” 

“Say it.” 

Fuck. She gulped. “Ben, please.” 

“Say it,” he growled and she lifted her hips, already wanting to grind against his face. Ben’s big hands pinned her to the mattress. 

“Go down on me,” she pleaded desperately. He grinned against her thigh and nodded, pulling her bottoms to the side and thrusting his tongue through her. 

*****

It took them a while to get back to the rules after that. When they did, his head was on her belly, his finger tracing her knee. Hers carded through his hair. 

Rule 13 made Ben shiver. “That’s…” he kissed her leg, lips still a little sticky. “Trickier. Especially since we’re…alright,” he nuzzled. “Let me think on that.” 

Holy crap, why was her vacation hookup the cutest person in the world. He was like a cuddly, eager-to-please puppy. 

That was really awesome at sex stuff. 

Rule 14 made him laugh so hard she ached with adoration as he shyly mumbled he could be into that. When he did a bad JFK impersonation she started cackling and doubled over, belly aching for her clenched muscles. JFK turned to Reagan, and suddenly she was doing a British accent and he was calling her Madam Prime Minister and something about a summit meeting, and it was silly and fun and so, so awesome. When they were done with their impersonations (for the moment) Ben drew a big line through Rule 14 and settled back in her lap. 

Rule 16 made him chuckle and it was fairly obvious why, given their current body position. 

“You’re cuddly,” he whispered. “For as little as you sleep, you’re cuddly when you do.” 

Seriously, how did he have her number after one night? 

Rule 17 made him inhale sharply and then he put a circle beside it. Leslie balked. 

“Really - ?”

“I’m into it.” 

“O-oh. Oh…okay then.” Donna was going to be _so impressed_. Ben pressed his mouth to her ear with a laugh that rolled through her. 

Rule 18 made him snort as he scratched three lines through everything but “DO NOT TALK ABOUT MARK”. 

“Not that I mind, I’m just kind of over hearing about a guy who was an asshole to you. You should focus on the non-assholes.” 

“Like you?” 

“Right,” he rolled back in her lap and pulled her down for a kiss. “Focus on the mean jerks instead.” 

At Rule 19 Ben tensed and Leslie held her breath. She wanted to ask him what he was thinking, but it seemed too personal and obviously he wasn’t struggling to keep his feelings in check. He was compartmentalizing, focusing on Leslie and their vacation fun instead of thinking about his horrible breakup. He tensed because he was afraid she would talk about it and end up asking for more, so it was a relief when the door to the room opened and Ann breezed in with Chris right behind her. Her eyes widened at the scene in front of her. 

“Uh, hey.”

“Well, hey guys!” Chris exclaimed jovially. “Did you have an amazing night as well?” 

Ben sat up and mumbled a “yeah, great” as he climbed to his feet. “Are we uh…room-wise…” 

“Ann Perkins will be spending the evening with me, if you don’t mind loaning her again Leslie. I don’t want to interfere with your plans.” 

“No,” Leslie rubbed her neck where she was pretty certain Ben had left a bruise last night. “No, no. I’m…that’s fine.” 

Ann lifted an eyebrow and Ben rolled his shoulders. 

“Okay, so I’m…in that case, I’m gonna grab some…clothes and stuff.” 

“Ben, there’s a _beach yoga_ class this afternoon. Would you be interested in joining Ann Perkins and myself - ”

“No,” Ben answered quickly. “No, I think…you wanted to go on that tour thing, right Les?” 

Her heart swelled with affection and she gave a little nod. “Uh huh.” 

“Yeah,” Ben snapped his fingers. “So, I’m gonna get some stuff from our room and then we’re gonna do that.” 

“I’ll walk with you!” Chris exclaimed. “So Ann has some time to gather her own things, okay?” 

“Sure,” Ann started to smile as Chris assaulted her mouth with a passionate kiss. Ben made a face and then winked at Leslie. 

“I’ll meet you back here in half an hour.” 

“Great,” she inhaled sharply. “That sounds great.” 

Ben’s eyes rolled again and he smacked Chris hard and said they were going. Chris waved as the two of them headed out the door. 

“Whoa.” Leslie stared at Ann. 

“I can’t help it, the sex is ridiculous. Also, I was about to say the same thing to you,” Ann settled on the bed across from her. “Why do you have your idea binder out?” 

“We were discussing it.” 

“Oh, lord,” Ann grabbed it and stared. “You were _discussing it_?” 

“Well, yes, we wanted to make sure we covered everything I was supposed to - ”

“Leslie, you’re not supposed to discuss…” she rubbed her forehead. “How much do you like him?” 

“It’s just a casual, chill vacation hookup - ”

Ann smacked her and Leslie whined. 

“Nothing about what I just walked in on looked casual or chill.” 

Leslie whined again and balled up, face on her knees. Ann sighed. 

 “This still ends on Friday afternoon. No matter what you’re feeling.” 

“But we’re from the same state and maybe we could try being more than a casual hookup when we got back - ”

“Leslie, he _just_ broke up with his girlfriend,” Ann patted her shins earnestly. “You’re in a bubble and it’s great and awesome right now, but you know when he goes back he’ll probably…feel sad again. He’s not going to want to think about long distance dating someone else…” 

“But, I could just _ask him_ if he wanted to have a casual cup of coffee or a plate of waffles at JJ’s and I could show him around Pawnee and he’d probably like a tour of City Hall and - ”

“Just because you call something casual does not mean I’m buying it.” 

“Maybe I just give him my phone number or my e-mail address and - ”

“Get hurt when he never contacts you?” Ann rubbed her knee and Leslie could already feel the tears stinging her eyes. Crap, one night of sex shouldn’t be allowed to do this to her. Why was she so bad at hooking up? 

“He knows where you work, he’d have no trouble finding you if he wanted to. It’s better if you just…assume you’ll never hear from him again after this trip.” 

Leslie crinkled her nose. It was true, if Ben wanted to find her he’d be able to find her. 

“And for our next vacation I’m adding to the rules Don’t share common interests because clearly that’s making you…feel things more than straight sex would be. I just didn’t think you’d…go on historical tours with your vacation hookup.” 

“You’re right. I know you’re right. I’ll…it’s only two more nights so I’ll have fun for as long as I can.” 

Ann smiled sympathetically now. 

“How was the sex?” 

“Ah-mazing.” 

“Did you come - ?”

Leslie smacked her noble land mermaid best friend’s shoulders and Ann laughed loudly and murmured her cheeks were red. 

“I’ll take that as a yes.” 

Did she come? _Psh, god Ann_ \- why would she call it great sex if she hadn’t?


	8. Rule 13: Have Sex Somewhere Public

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi lovely people, thank you so much for continuing to read/comment/leave kudos. I still appreciate it very much. 
> 
> This chapter is a little different than the others and contains high amounts of fluff. You have been warned.

“So,” she fell into step beside him. “The island was originally colonized by the British in…” 

His pistachio ice cream looked good. It was a scorching hot day, the sun beating down on her bare arms, they were both wearing sunglasses, and okay, she was kind of into the Ray Bans now. They were strolling through the main city, just along one of the ports where most of the old, historical buildings were settled. 

“In?” Ben's eyebrow lifted expectantly. 

“The early seventeenth century. Colonists were interested in…” 

She kept talking fluidly, though, without her trademark exuberance. As Ben studied the fishing boats in front of them Leslie went for it, dipped her spoon into his cup and scooped up some of his ice cream. 

“Heeeeey,” he bumped her playfully. Crap, busted. 

“You wanted the bubblegum, Ms. Knope, don’t steal mine.” 

She waggled her eyebrow and lifted the spoon towards her mouth tauntingly. “I just want a taste.” 

“I didn’t get a taste of bubblegum.” 

“You called it gross!” 

“Well, pick a less gross flavor and then we can - Leslie!” he squawked as she popped the spoon in her mouth. And then his mouth was on hers, hard and warm and laughing as he assaulted her with his lips. She squealed when he lifted her, spinning her around and bumping her back into the side of the nearest building in a way that was totally inappropriate for a public street. Pawnee Leslie would never encourage this kind of PDA and she had a feeling Indianapolis Ben wouldn’t either. 

Now though, Leslie moaned softly and exhaled his name. Beach vacations were awesome. Ben pulled back, breathing raggedly, and pecked her lips. “Wanna go…back to the room?” 

“Okay,” God, she’d _never_ been so into sex that it was worth skipping a self-guided tour for. 

“Well,” he kissed a spot behind her ear she hadn’t known did it for her until Ben had found it with his tongue. “Too bad, you stole my ice cream, you have to wait.” 

Leslie’s jaw fell open. 

“Jeeeeeerk,” he kissed the back of her hand with a smirk as he tugged them into the sun. Fuck, he was such a cute jerk who made her toes curl and her panties wet with just a kiss. She was so into him it was kind of ridiculous. When his ice cream was gone he took her hand back for good, shooting little smiles in her direction whenever she recalled an important fact. 

“Ben?” 

“Mhm?” 

“Tonight, do you want to try that thing we talked about…” 

“Leslie,” he was feigning exasperation. She could already tell the difference between really exasperated Ben and when he was faking it. “I’m not doing my Ronald Reagan impersonation for you again until we’re in the room.” 

She cackled only to have it stolen by another kiss. Historical role play was excellent.

And so was Ben. 

And this vacation. 

She was just really happy, okay? 

*****

“Mhm, hey babydoll,” Ben groaned as the cushion shifted with her added weight and held out an arm, her political thriller resting open on his lap. They’d come down to the beach after the tour and Leslie had run in and out of the ocean a few times while Ben claimed to be reading (he wasn’t, he was totally napping). 

She wasn’t thinking about how naturally she seemed to slot against his bony side. That wasn’t a vacation hookup thing to do. 

“Not into it?” 

“Mhmm,” his lips found her neck when she settled on his arm. “I am, someone just kept me up all night and then woke me up early and made me walk a lot and tried to steal my ice cream.” 

“Mhmm, I think I know this person. She’s got a lot of energy.” 

“She’s the energizer bunny - powered by optimism and sugar.” 

Leslie cackled into his skin, inhaling his musk. With every passing hour her stomach twisted more painfully when some aspect of Ben enveloped her. The feel of his skin, the way his neck smelled, the sensation of his scruff along her tongue, all of it was consuming and she seriously had to get it together because it would be gone before she knew it. Tears prickled the corners of her eyes and, as if he sensed it, Ben tilted her chin and gave her a light kiss. She smiled and kissed back, his Ray Bans bumping her nose. 

“What do you want to eat tonight?” 

Ben groaned and rolled into her, rubbing her sides. “You know what I want to eat tonight. Some freshly caught Deputy Director,” he started nibbling on her neck until she shrieked and swatted at him. They drew a few stares, but it was worth it. God, he was such a sleepy, silly, goofball. 

“I’m serious,” she swatted again. “Do you want to try that restaurant with the lobster thing…or the Italian one, or…” 

“Actually yeah,” Ben nuzzled her ear and settled against her. “That lobster sounds good, let’s do that.” 

Leslie smiled and settled against his chest. They’d been snuggling silently for a few minutes when Ben pulled a towel up over them. The hand against her back tugged on her hair and he found her mouth with his. 

“Can you be quiet?” he whispered, suckling her lip and pulling her closer. A strangled noise escaped her throat. 

“You have to be quiet, okay? For Rule 13,” he tongue flicked along the inside of her lip. 

“Okay,” adrenaline coursed through Leslie as she squirmed towards him. “But we don’t have…” 

“No…” he glanced over his shoulder casually, knowing what she meant. “We’ll do something else.” 

He bit down gently and salved his tongue over the mark as his fingers slid up her thigh and settled between her legs. He moved and lifted her hip over his for access and Leslie’s breath caught in her throat when he stroked. 

It turned out she couldn’t be quiet, but Ben swallowed her moans on his tongue, shuddering whenever she did, which only made her hotter. His lips never left hers as his fingers parted her and stroked through her wetness a few times before dipping inside. He pushed in and out, coating himself in arousal, before twisting and rubbing gently against _that spot_. The base of his palm bumped her clit and her legs started to shake. 

“Shhh,” Ben whispered with a breathy laugh. His body was so close she could feel his dick hardening against her stomach and that thought made her grin as warmth coiled deep in her belly, started to burn, and then extended to her limbs. She half-sobbed when she came, forehead against his, sweating lightly. Ben kissed her lips and eased his hand away. 

After she caught her breath, Leslie glanced around to make sure they were still mostly alone and wrapped her hand around the base of his cock. 

“Your turn,” she giggled and started to stroke. 

Ben was way louder than she’d been, for the record, and it was no time before he came all over his bathing suit and her stomach. He groaned and rolled onto his back, using the towel to wipe them down. 

“We should change,” he sighed, kissing her hair. He yelped in protest when Leslie jumped up and dragged him along the beach in a sprint. Why would they go all the way upstairs when they had a perfectly good ocean at their disposal? 

They end up floating away from the shore a little, the slowly sinking afternoon sun bathing everything in an orange glow. Leslie wrapped her limbs around Ben and toyed with the hairs at the nape of his neck. 

“This water is amazing.” 

“Yeah, it is, the temperature’s perfect.” 

“We’ll have to do the beach and the pool tomorrow, for your last full day.” 

“Mhmm,” his fingers dug a little more into her as they floated. “Let’s not talk about going home.” 

He hefted her gently and she laughed, kissing his jaw and stealing his sunglasses. Ben whined when she put them on just because she could. 

“Are you dreading work?” It was a concept she was unfamiliar with, but she supposed Ben could be. 

“I guess…” his eyes crinkled at the corners. “I don’t like being a jackass who ruins everything for everyone, but I like fixing problems.” 

“But,” she rested her chin on his shoulder just to be closer as the waves lapped over them. “Do you ever stay anywhere long enough to see what fixing the problems does?”

He bit his lip, she couldn't see it, but she could sense it. Ben’s gestures and mannerisms felt predictable already. Which was weird, because she barely knew him. “No. I guess not. We get them set up and leave. Onto the next one.” 

Leslie tilted her head and Ben shrugged, her body moving with him. 

“Yeah. I know. It’s not exciting. But…it’s not forever. I don’t intend for it to be forever. I’d like to try and…run for office again someday.” 

She felt her lips curve into a smile and Ben cuddled her even closer. 

 “Is that like a ha-ha, who’s going to vote for an Ice Clown smile, or I think that’s not a terrible, completely unrealistic idea smile?” 

Leslie dragged her thumb across his jaw, tilting his head so he was looking at her again. 

“Most people wouldn’t remember Ice Town like you do.” 

“You did,” he cocked an eyebrow. 

“Because I had a crush on you and was jealous of you,” her hand slipped down his back and pinched his butt. Ben squawked and tickled her side until she released him. 

“Right. Of course,” he shifted and burrowed his face in cleavage. “Maybe when you’re President you can pardon me for Ice Town.” 

She laughed loudly and tugged his hair until she found his lips. “I don’t think it works like that. You should know this, Mr. Mayor.” 

He smiled into her skin. “Want to head up? Nap? Get ready for dinner?” 

“Uh huh.” 

“Do you want or need to talk to Ann or anything?” 

Leslie squirmed and spotted Ann on the beach, tanned skin radiating while Chris kept an arm draped around her. Leslie felt a pang of something in her chest. She was jealous of Ann and Ann’s ability to actually be cool and casual about these things when she kind of couldn’t bear the acknowledgement that tomorrow was their last full day together. Ann wasn’t worrying at all. Ann would say goodbye to Chris and grab her arm and get her a fruity cocktail so they could gush over their fun vacation hookups and go dancing that night. No big deal. Ann Perkins was nailing this. 

Ben kissed her earlobe, interrupting her thoughts. 

“Les?” 

“No,” she swallowed away the lump in her throat. “No no, I’m good. Let’s go back.” 

Ben’s mouth twisted wryly as he moved them back towards the sand. 

*****  
“You ate a lot of that dessert, are you sure you can do this? I don’t want you to get a cramp - ” 

Ben growled into her throat as the hot water beaded in her hair and down her back. They’d gotten back from the beach, Ben had fallen asleep on the bed talking to her about his crazy Minnesota family, they’d eaten fresh caught lobster and drank white wine and held hands the entire walk over…and during dinner…and during the walk to the room… 

Holding hands did _not_ count as not being vacation fling-y, by the way. Holding hands was totally acceptable and Leslie had caught Ann holding hands with Chris multiple times and she would fight her perfect best friend to the death on this one…

Although, the server had asked them how long they’d been together and both their cheeks had tinged red - yeah okay, maybe that part wasn’t vacation fling-y. And they weren’t even touching then, they were just laughing over some silly story about Ben in college and his accounting professor while she helped herself to one of his scallops and he stole some of her pasta - 

Oh. Maybe that was why. 

The dessert - a chocolate torte that had sounded decadent but was not quite sweet enough for Leslie - had been mostly eaten by Ben. Even though she hadn’t loved it, she fully intended to give him a lot of crap for it. 

“It’s…fine,” he slid his palms over her slick skin. “I’ve just…never done this with anyone as short as you, so it’s usually more like…tilting than lifting.” 

“Do you want me to see if I can find a tall girl in the hall and then I can just watch? I’m all about troubleshooting here - ” 

“Quiet,” he kissed her lips and she giggled as he shifted them to a less slippery patch of tile and gripped her sides. He’d already gotten on his knees and made sure she was good and ready and now Leslie was _so ready_ she was starting to ache. 

His hands kept slipping and sliding and he tried to hike up her leg in a few places, and finally - _finally_ \- his fingers found purchase, he lifted her gently and braced them both against the tile as he sank in. Leslie moaned, wrapping her arms around his neck like she had in the ocean earlier, just as Ben kissed her throat and started to move. 

When they emerged in fluffy towels, water droplets clinging to their skin, Leslie went straight for the binder and put a big check mark beside Rule 9. 

Inefficient? Yes. Technically complicated? Yes. Fun anyway, even when Ben growled with frustration because it took a while to get the right angle? Yes. 

It might’ve been Ben more than the shower sex, but either way, a very successful attempt. 

*****

“Alright,” he pulled her close so they were sharing a pillow. It was late, very late, but unlike the night before, Leslie’s body was humming with exhilaration and a touch of anxiety. No matter how determined she was to stop overthinking things, with each passing moment it seemed like she could feel this, this feeling of contentedness, slipping away. 

“Hypothetically, if at some point I were to find myself in the greatest city in America.” 

Leslie grinned and squirmed even closer, the knot she'd been carrying around loosening at the very suggestion. 

“And I needed a tour. What would you - assuming you want to - what would we do?” 

“Hmm,” she pushed his hair out of his eyes. It was still damp from their shower and smelled faintly of the hotel shampoo and salt from the ocean. She hooked her ankle over Ben’s and toyed with his fingers. 

“Well, it all starts with breakfast food, so JJ’s for waffles which are golden brown perfection and amazing, and if you don't like them you’re dead to me.” 

Ben grinned behind their joined hands. 

“Then, well, we should start at City Hall. A tour of all the murals. That will probably take about three hours.” 

Ben stared at her in disbelief. “Uhhh, how many murals are there?” 

“I’m very thorough,” she clucked her tongue. “Next, we would go to the snow globe museum, although I’d have to wear my sneak around clothes because I’m not allowed in there anymore.” 

“For shaking them.” 

“Um, yes.” 

“Oh, I’m totally getting kicked out too then,” he nipped at her wrist until she sighed. 

“Next, we’d have to visit all the parks and if it’s winter we could go sledding on Nipple Hill. Oh, and a tour of the Sweetums factory, and - ”

“Would you buy me lunch?” 

“We could get a pizza slice for our parks tour.” 

“I like calzones.” 

Leslie blinked. “I knew there was something wrong with you.” 

“Excuse me?” 

“Calzones are stupid and pointless. They’re just pizza that’s harder to eat and nobody likes them. No, you do not get a calzone, Wyatt. You can have a slice of pizza like a regular person.” 

“Wow, you’re really against calzones - ”

“BECAUSE THEY’RE POINTLESS!” She had a feeling she was making crazy eyes because Ben looked slightly terrified, and then he was rubbing her waist. 

“You’re a goofball,” he kissed her knuckles. “Okay fine, no calzones on this whirlwind tour. Then what?” 

“Well, if there was a parks event happening we would have to go to it. Like maybe there’s a Movie Night or Singles’ Night - ”

“I’m not going to Singles’ Night with you, Leslie Knope.” 

“Oh,” her heart started to palpitate. “Why not?” 

Ben rolled his eyes and she squealed when he pressed a searing kiss to her lips. She was breathless when he pulled away. “Then what?” 

“Then,” a shiver rolled through her as the air conditioning kicked in. Ben tugged the blankets up more, pulling her onto his chest. “We’d go somewhere nice for dinner or maybe back to JJ’s - no, somewhere nice. French. And then we’d meet people at the Snakehole and dance for a bit, and then we’d either go back to JJ’s or to Ann’s for pancakes, and then - ”

Ben kissed her neck wetly. 

“And then I’d probably take you home to bed because you would be very tired after our busy day.” 

“Mhmmm,” he sounded tired now. “Perfect.” 

“Ben?” 

“Mhmm?” 

She sat up to throw off her bathrobe and tried to do the same to him. He whined through shut eyes, but finally helped her before snuggling back down. The skin-on-skin contact was soothing and they both exhaled. 

“What if I came to Indy?” 

“You haven’t been?” his nail flashed down her spine as Leslie sealed her curves against his, as though attempting to eliminate all space between them and absorb his warmth for herself. 

“No, I have. But where would you take me?” 

“I’ll make you a list tomorrow,” he drawled through a yawn. “Go to sleep.” 

She wasn’t sleeping. She didn’t want to sleep. Tomorrow was their last day and yes, she was sure to be heartbroken by this end of this whole endeavor, but whether or not she cuddled Ben now wouldn’t change things at this point. 

So, she would. She’d cuddle him, she’d hold his hand when she wanted to and she’d laugh with him and kiss him and enjoy the moments they were having. Because this - the hotel, the beach, the Caribbean ocean - this was their bubble for the next day and a half and she would savor it until the very minute he disappeared. 

Thirty-four hours and counting.


	9. Rule 17: Tie Him Up/Blindfold Him

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These last two chapters were kind of written together, so yay for fast posting! 
> 
> All things about you people being the best and me loving you and your comments still applies. :D

Crap, she fell asleep. 

She knew this because it was Ben’s lips that pulled her back to consciousness, pressing and tugging until a little groan escaped her throat. The sun warmed her eyelids and Ben’s breath warmed everything else. 

“Good morning,” he kissed her chin and brushed her hair back. “Were you doing work?” 

“I,” she yawned. The sun had been coming up when she finally passed out, idea binder open on her chest and papers scattered all over the bed while Ben snored quietly beside her, hand resting on her knee. 

“Just some edits. Idea binder edits and reports on our successes…” 

Ben’s chuckle echoed through her skin and she snuggled into him, murmuring as his arms slid around her. 

“What do we have left?” He kept her there as he reached for the binder. “Uhhh, oh, Rule 17. Maybe this afternoon.” 

“Mhmm kay,” she really didn’t care if they managed Rule 17, no matter how impressed Donna would be when she got back. Leslie draped across Ben’s small waist. He was so taut and narrow, like a sexy elf king. Ben made a weird noise and Leslie realized she’d said as much out loud. Concerned he took her compliment the wrong way, she hooked her foot around his calf and pressed her nose into his chest. Ben’s face dropped to her hair as his palm slid over her skin and for a long time they just lay their, waking up, breathing quietly. 

“Was I talking?” She’d peaked an eye open to check the time and saw it was just passed six. 

“No,” he tipped her chin and pressed their lips together, flicking his tongue. “I was actually uh…I tried to change my flight.” 

Leslie jumped up so quickly they banged heads and Ben groaned. 

“Wh…what?” 

Ben shifted her on top of him, sliding his palms up her skin and flicking his thumb over her nipple, tongue poking between his lips and head tilted. 

“It…your flight’s full. And it would’ve been…a lot, but mostly because your flight’s full and if I can’t get on it I won’t be back in Indy until Sunday night, which - ”

“Is when you’d leave for the new town.” 

“Yeah,” he palmed her breast, but it didn’t feel sexual, just intimate. “I can’t risk it, but one more day sounded really great.” 

He sat up, mouth landing open and wet against her sternum. “Fuck, one more day sounded really really great. I just…” her fingers carded through his hair. 

“You have stuff to do.” 

“Yeah,” his lips finally found her nipple. “I have _a lot_ of stuff to do.” 

His voice was husky and sent a shiver down her spine as he flipped them, settling against her hips and pulling her into a bruising kiss. Leslie moaned, winding her legs around him and arching into his touch. 

Somehow, she ended up back on top, fingers digging into his spine, his teeth clamping down on her shoulder being the thing that took her the edge. He followed quickly, moaning into her breast and then flopping, taking her with him. 

“Mhmm, great morning," she murmured. Ben chortled and smacked her butt lightly until she moved off him. 

“Agreed. You can go back to sleep now. I’m gonna…”

He gestured to the bathroom and Leslie stretched when he moved from the bed. It was on her tongue to call _“next time let’s just get one big bed” _when she realized there would be no next time. There would be no sharing a king sized bed and waking up to watch the sunrise. There was just this, this morning and the next. She rubbed her brow and crinkled her nose, willing the stinging in her eyes to disappear.__

The bed shifted under Ben’s returning weight and he spooned around her, arms locking securely. 

“Or, if you wanted we could go for a walk on the beach? Get a coffee, see more dolphins - ” 

You saw _no dolphins_. Stop it.” 

“I saw three dolphins, you just had to stand still long enough to notice them,” he grunted when she squirmed to brush their lips together. “And you can’t sit still.” 

She giggled, resting her forehead against his chin. 

“Let’s do it, and then we’ll nap later.” 

Leslie sighed with exhaustion, but let him pull her to her feet. Naked. She’d been very naked this week. They dressed quickly in bathing suits and t-shirts and Ben shoved the keycard in his pocket, grabbing her hand as they went out the door. 

Thirty hours and counting.

***** 

“What is it with you and my food,” he teased as she stole one of his french fries. He flicked some water from his glass at her and then she did the same in retaliation. They were sitting at the bar, she was sipping a mojito (a delicious, cold, alcohol laden mojito) and she’d even coaxed Ben into trying one. 

And he’d _groaned_ when he took the first sip and kept gushing about the fresh mint. For a calzone-loving person, he certainly could appreciate a good beverage. 

“You need some aloe, Knope,” he reached over, a long finger darting under the strap of her bikini - the red and white polka dot one - and pressed lightly into her pink skin. “I’ll rub it on you later.” 

He winked and smirked and Leslie wanted to kiss his face hard just to make him stop. She didn’t have time to execute that plan though, because Ann and Chris appeared, looking like they’d stepped off the pages of the Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Issue. 

“Ben Wyatt! This is the longest I’ve gone without seeing you in months. What’s that you’re drinking? Does it have sugar in it?!” 

“It's a mojito, so yes,” Ben snorted. “And I’m getting another one,” he scooted to his feet and Chris declared he would join him. 

“You want another?” his voice was low in her ear.

“Sure,” she beamed as he patted her hip and then resisted the urge to check Ann’s face as they walked away. 

“Leslie…” 

Fine!” she threw her hands up. “Yes, I really super like him, maybe more than I’ve ever liked anyone and I’m probably going to cry when he leaves and I know it’s a vacation fling and it’s ending in…” she glanced at a clock over the bar. “Twenty-three hours, and I know. I can’t separate sex from feelings and this is the best…happiest I’ve been in a really long time and - ” 

Ann held up a palm. “I just wanted a fry.” 

“Oh,” she pushed the basket towards her and sighed. Ann patted her hand. 

“I get it. It happens. Everything’s walks on the beach and nice dinners and room service and… I get it. It’s easy to fall for someone like this. I’m…” she cast a glance over her shoulder and shrugged as her eyes landed on Chris’s bare torso. 

“Chris is great and so positive and he makes me feel like I’m the most amazing person in the world and…yeah, it’s really gonna suck when it’s over. I’m going to miss this.” 

Ann was a beautiful, wise, majestic, baby dolphin, but that wasn’t it. That wasn’t why Leslie’s throat kept randomly going dry and her stomach churned to the point of almost vomiting. It wasn’t that she was going to be sad when the trip was over, it was that there was a dorky, cute, sexy, funny guy who didn’t think it was weird she made idea binders and brought them on vacation; who nodded with approval when she told him numbers 1 through 5 on Leslie’s List of Amazing Women and who kissed her just for the hell of it because he really wanted to. Who was currently shooting her a smile across the bar like being with her was enough and no one - no one - had ever made her feel that special before. 

And she was just supposed to..let him go? Because they _happened_ to meet on vacation instead of a bar in Indianapolis or at a government function or during one of his job assignments? How was she supposed to be okay with that? 

When Ben and Chris returned her fresh mojito was set in front of her and Leslie took a hearty gulp to make the back of her throat stop aching. Ben’s bony arm casually draped around her as he queried how many fries she’d stolen while he was gone. 

Chris took a sip of his own mojito - “lightly sweetened” with agave which was apparently much healthier. Ann insisted his tasted better, but Leslie crinkled her nose when she was given a sip. Because it was disgusting and tasted really sour and _blegh_. Ann rolled her eyes and said Leslie needed to really cut back on her sugar intake. Ben just drummed his fingers against her shoulder and murmured his agreement, the pad of his thumb sliding against the side of his neck. 

“Where should we go to dinner tonight, gang?” Chris glanced amongst them. “Ann Perkins, you liked that one restaurant - ” 

“The Italian one with that pasta thing…” Ann looked between them. “Did you…we’re gonna all eat together since it’s our last night, right?” 

Ben's fingers dug into her. 

“Sure,” he reached for his own drink calmly. “That's good…Les?” 

“Uh huh.” 

She really didn’t care what they were eating for dinner, what she cared about was the way Ben tensed when Ann reminded them the clock was ticking. 

“Excellent. And then perhaps we can all go dancing after!” 

Ben’s jaw shifted and his Adam’s apple bobbed and Leslie knew he was rolling his eyes behind his sunglasses. 

“Maybe for a bit,” he replied coolly, in a voice she placed as him using with over-the-top employees demanding too much. 

Her. She would totally be an over-the-top employee demanding too much. But right now it meant he was exasperated by the suggestion of squandering precious hours in a smoky club where they couldn’t even hear each other speak. And that made her heart flutter. 

After another round of drinks, Ben’s hand was on her back, rubbing her spine unapologetically and brushing over the ties to her bikini top. She slurped what was left of her mojito as the space between her legs started to throb - again. This was getting ridiculous. 

__Except it wasn't sex she really craved, if she was being honest. It was the way his shoulders felt under her her palms, the way his hands settled against her waist, his heart pounding against her chest as they came down together and their tongues tasting of each other._ _

__Closeness, intimacy, Ben. That was what she really desired._ _

__Ben’s hand came away to tangle his fingers with hers._ _

__“So…dinner around seven? I think we’re gonna go hang out by the pool and maybe take a nap.”_ _

__“Oh,” Ann studied Leslie carefully. “Sure. Fine. We’ll meet you at our…or I guess your,” she gestures between the two of them. “At quarter to.”_ _

__“Sure,” Ben’s tone was clipped as he slid out of his seat and waited for Leslie to do the same. She wasn’t sure what was happening, but it felt like Ann and Ben were sizing each other up for some reason._ _

__“Did you…was it weird and tension-y between you and Ann or was I just imagining it?” She asked as they crossed the sand. He stopped and shrugged his shoulders._ _

__“No. You,” he clawed at his cheek. “Cara called their room - mine and Chris’s I guess - and left a message and Chris just told me, so Ann obviously…was wondering when I was going to tell you.”_ _

__Leslie managed to keep the shakes out of her voice and forced a smile._ _

__“Why would you have to tell me that? You don’t…it’s a vacation thing, right? You don’t have to explain yourself to me. If you…want to go home and get back together with Cara that’s none of my business and if I want to go back and pine about Mark or try and date Mark or - ”_ _

__She whimpered when he kissed her, long and slow, fingers twisting through her hair and tongue pushing insistently against hers until Leslie’s lungs were straining for breath._ _

__“I don’t want to talk about them - either of them - right now. I don’t even want to…I kind of hate her for calling and leaving that message and assuming I’ve been fucking miserable for a week and dying to have her back. Because I haven’t been, I haven’t really thought about her since that day on the boat when you and…and since that this trip has been amazing and you, you are seriously amazing,” he cupped her face in both his hands. “And I have no right to…but I’m really hoping you don’t… If Mark doesn’t already see how amazing you are he’s a fucking moron and he doesn’t deserve you.”_ _

This time when her eyes welled with tears they slipped onto her cheeks. Ben swiped them away quickly. 

__“You…no matter what, you should be with someone who adores you and…” he pulled away abruptly and threw up his hands._ _

“Sorry, I don’t…agh, I don’t know what I’m saying," he bounced on the balls of his feet and clawed at his cheek. "The rum got to me or something. I just…I have…felt happier and laughed more and had more fun than I have in a really long time and that is because of you, and I just need you to know that, okay?” 

“Kay,” she tugged his hands away from his face and kissed him softly. “And I would like to go swimming with you and make out with you some more and take a nap with you and…” 

“Me too. Let’s do that.” 

Leslie leaned into his arm as they started walking again and then sighed when it wrapped around her fully. 

Twenty-two hours and counting. 

***** 

“You really trust me?” It would be understandable if he didn’t, he’d known her less than a week. 

__“Leslie, you brought a binder on how to hookup on vacation. You are very thorough and responsible and I’m not worried.”_ _

__“Okay,” she reached out and secured the scarf around his left wrist and reached for the sleep mask. Ben jolted just a little between her thighs._ _

__“You just, you uh, you have the scissors there, right babe?” There was a flicker of nervousness on his face that did nothing but warm her further. She dipped and kissed him softly._ _

__“Uh huh,” she slid down his throat. “I’m going to take excellent care of you.”_ _

__“Mhmm,” he bumped his forehead against her chin. “I have no doubt.”_ _

__She was still grinning when she tugged the mask over his eyes. Ben moaned her name as she took an ice cube delicately between her lips and left a trail down the front of his body. After that he didn't say much coherent for a while, erupting in her mouth with a low moan that made Leslie shiver. While he recovered his breath she untied him from the headboard and kissed all over his face. Their tongues met and he tasted himself._ _

__“Good lord,” he rubbed his nose into her neck._ _

__“Uh huh.”_ _

__“Now imagine if we did that _with_ historical role play.” _ _

__Leslie's insides burned at the mere suggestion._ _

__Nineteen hours and counting._ _

__*****_ _

“WHAT?!” Ben had just tried to tell her something or ask her something, but Leslie only knew that because he’d dragged her closer and she felt his lips move against her ear. Ben sighed, obviously annoyed, and plucked her half-full cocktail from her hands. He motioned towards the door and gave her a look she understood to mean he was sick of pretending he wanted to dance in a noisy club all night. Ann had just crossed the line into drunk and Chris was bouncing around to whatever song he’d deemed “amazing” ( _hint_ : he’d deemed every song amazing) with Ann’s fingers clutched tightly in his. 

__The instant she nodded Ben yanked on the front of Chris’s shirt long to explain what was happening through gestures. Ann’s bleary eyes widened._ _

__“GOING?” She mouthed. Leslie nodded._ _

__“WE’LL DANCE TOMORROW NIGHT!”_ _

__A break in the music allowed Ann to hear that and she grinned and waved excitedly, tossing her luxurious brown locks over her shoulder and spinning back to face Chris. Ben’s fingers curled through Leslie’s and he gave a little, halfhearted wave as he guided her to the door._ _

__“Oh god,” he groaned when they were outside. “Am I deaf? I think I’m deaf.”_ _

__“People are really into theme nights,” she informed him knowledgeably, although she wasn’t entirely sure what the theme was supposed to be. They’d said 80s, but everyone was basically just half naked and only one in every five songs was actually written in the 80s, so clearly the event organizer had dropped the ball. It's not like anyone packed 80s attire to bring on vacation -_ _

___Mhmm_ , they’d hit the sand and Ben was kissing her. Quick and blistering with a grin on his lips. _ _

__“I’d had enough of hearing how amazing Chris thought everything was anyway.”_ _

__“Me too,” sweat was beading on her brow and chest. The beach was empty, save for another couple off in the distance strolling hand-in-hand. Leslie kicked off her sandals, waiting for Ben to do the same so they could squish the cold sand between their toes._ _

__“Was it just me or did that not feel very 80s?”_ _

“No, that was not just you,” excitement bubbled inside her. “I could do a much better 80s night. Actually, I was thinking we could make our first park movie night of the spring 80s themed and people could come in costume and we could show _The Breakfast Club_ or _Pretty in Pink_ or something.” 

__“I like it,” he pulled her hand to his lips. “Let’s walk for a bit.”_ _

__He could’ve said let’s go skinny dipping with sharks and she would’ve said yes. He didn’t though, just held her hand as they moved, mostly in silence but with a few inconsequential comments about how nice it was not to need a jacket and how this was the most tanned Ben had been in years, but somehow he was still pasty. He told her she had more freckles in more places every day and it occurred to Leslie that that was how he would remember her - relaxed and freckly and so happy she could explode._ _

__And she would remember him smirky and slightly-less-pasty and laughing a lot. They would be different people back in Indiana. She would stay at her office until ten PM brainstorming and go home to watch TV or write in her dream journal, and he would hack budgets and cut jobs and complain about the water pressure in his motel room, and maybe it was better they wouldn’t get to see that side of each other. Maybe they wouldn’t like that side of each other._ _

__It was a sobering thought, that attempting to continue this beyond their bubble would ruin it, taint their happy memories. Maybe in the real world Ben would be just like Mark, cynical and occasionally rolling his eyes when she was too enthusiastic about something. In the real world 80s Movie Night might sound ridiculous to him._ _

__“We did everything in your binder, right?"_ _

__“Uh huh. What would you like to do now - ”_ _

__“Don’t care,” he pulled her against him. “Actually, I was thinking I go grab anything still in my room and bring it to yours, and then I don’t have…and then in the morning I don’t have to…go anywhere.”_ _

Leslie smiled. The problem was it was stupidly hard to imagine _not_ wanting Ben Wyatt in real life in that moment. 

__But, she didn’t have a choice, did she?_ _

__Twelve hours and counting._ _


	10. Rule 3: What Happens in Vegas, Stays in Vegas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiiii everyone. I am back from my vacation and happy to be able to post for you again. 
> 
> Thank you SOOOOOO much for continuing to leave comments and kudos. Hearing from you makes me so so happy. I hope you enjoy this chapter. <3

She was folding his _Han Shot First_ t-shirt and stuffing it into his barebones carry-on bag (he hadn’t even brought a real suitcase, just a _carry-on bag_ ) while Ben sorted through his toiletries. His hand bumped hers and Leslie inhaled. They hadn’t…it had been a weird morning so far. They hadn’t slept much (or in her case, _at all_ ) and had spent most of the night talking and kissing and touching constantly, but as soon as the sun had broken the horizon something had shifted - as if they’d both wordlessly decided some distance now would make things easier. 

It hadn’t. 

It had been thirty-eight minutes since Ben had touched her, which, given that every square inch of her skin had been licked or marked by him, was pretty significant. Ann and Chris had called to see if they wanted to go down to breakfast, but Ben had said they should probably pack a bit first…Which Leslie understood as Ben code for _although he thought Chris was a nice person, he’d take as much of a break from him as possible while he still could_. 

Oh and also her, he might just want to be alone with her. 

Maybe. She wasn’t overthinking it. 

“Do you know how many people I’ve let wear my _Han Shot First_ t-shirt?” 

She’d worn it to bed that night. 

“Hmmm, a thousand.” 

He smacked her lightly. 

“None. You, goofball,” his fingers found her chin then and he kissed her softly. She wasn’t sure if she was imagining that his own eyes were a little glassy or not, but then Ben pulled her into his chest and hugged her so hard it was almost painful. 

“You’re little,” he muttered into her neck. “Maybe I can smuggle you in my suitcase.” 

Leslie giggled softly, even though she wanted to cry. “It feels strange…it feels like I’ve been here way longer than a week. It feels like we’ve been doing this for a lot more than…” 

“Same,” she sighed, pulling away to throw some more clothes in. “You wanna…finish packing and then,” her eyes flitted towards the bed, blankets askew. “One for the road?” 

It wasn’t even that she was needing sex, she was just needing him, as much of him as possible while she could still get it. Ben's arms were around her instantly and with an urgency she hadn’t felt since that very first time together. He lifted her with no trouble, moving them to the bed in three fast steps. 

“Mhmmm, we did…everything….in the binder…” she couldn’t get out more than a few words without his lips reclaiming hers. “What are we…gonna do…?” 

“I have a few ideas,” he whispered into wet, slightly-sloppy kisses. 

Five hours and counting. 

*****

Ben’s cool fingers smoothed aloe into her reddened skin and Leslie sighed. She smiled to herself when his hand fell away and his arms wrapped around her chest, pressing his nose into her hair. 

“Do you take a lot of vacations?” 

Ben chuckled, shifting them so they were spooning in the middle of the bed. 

“Nope, this was probably my first real one in…since college.” 

“Oh my god!” she twisted to see his face. “Even I think that’s crazy and I love working!” 

“Well, I went to Vegas two summers ago with Henry, but that was mostly just…gambling alone and eating meals together.” 

He’d told her about his brother. He had a lot to say and most of it was mocking, but they seemed close as far as Leslie could tell.

“Do you think you’ll come back here?”  

Up until now, whenever he spooned her they usually ended facing each other fairly quickly. This time though, Ben kept his chin on her shoulder and his arms snuggly around her middle. 

“Maybe,” he palmed her thigh. “I could be persuaded.” 

“What was your favourite part?” 

Ben laughed and his nail flashed down her stomach. They were both so tired, she could feel his heart thumping a little faster against her back just from the energy it was taking to stay awake. Leslie stiffened and tried to turn again. This time he let her. 

“Why are you laughing?” 

Ben’s warm brown eyes - that, crap, that she wouldn’t get to wake up to tomorrow - bore into her. Those had probably been her favorite part of vacation. 

Not that she’d tell him that. She’d write it in her diary…and maybe mention it to Ann casually when they’d both consumed a lot of alcohol. She’d worked to see his eyes, _demanded_ to see his eyes and took them for herself when he wouldn’t give them up. And they were always soft, even when his words were biting and his mouth was smirking. 

“Are…are you serious?” Ben cut through her thoughts. 

“Well, there was so much! There was the boat ride, which I know I kind of ruined for you but it was still pretty from what I saw, there was the all the food, there was the pool and the beach and there was going into town, and - ”

“You.” 

“Hmm?” Even though her heart was hammering in her throat and she’d totally heard him.

“You, Ms. Knope,” he turned and hooked his leg around hers, wiry hairs poking into her skin. 

“You yelling at me and your political thrillers and biographies and idea binders, and your optimism and sugar consumption. And talking to you and hanging out with you and yeah, you were my favourite part,” he kissed her forehead. “What about you, what was your favourite - ” he growled when she climbed on top of him and kissed him for all she was worth. 

“Shut up.” 

Ben just grinned and pulled her head down again. 

Two hours and counting. 

***** 

She would not cry. 

She would not. 

She was going to give Ben a friendly hug, thank him for his dedication to her vacation sex cause, tell him she had a lot of fun and that was it. _Voila_. Successful vacation hookup. 

Ugh, she totally didn’t want to. She wanted to grab him and kiss him and ask him if he wanted to come visit Pawnee; she wanted to know what his apartment in Indy looked, whether there were pictures of family or it was unnaturally bare; she wanted to make him pancakes for breakfast and kiss him over coffee and surprise him with his favourite take out and…ugh. 

It sucked. Vacation sex officially sucked. Leslie couldn’t do anything inconsequentially and she met a cute, funny, sweet, sexy guy and now she couldn’t even call him? Because of where they happened to meet? What a stupid rule. She was going to protest this, she would make it law that this rule was stupid and… 

He was on the rebound.

He had to go home and deal with a breakup and process all of that, and no matter how great things had been with Leslie they didn't change that fact…she had made him feel better for a few days and that was that. She was his favourite part of vacation because she took his mind off things and he appreciated it. 

Ben’s stupid Ray Bans she’d probably secretly loved this entire time were tucked into the neck of his shirt and he gave her a little smile as he settled up the bill. 

“So,” he pocketed his passport and shrugged. “Uh…you leave tomorrow?" 

He knew she left tomorrow, they’d talked about it at least three times. He didn’t know what to say either. 

“Uh huh,” she swallowed hard. “You’re back on the road…” 

“Late Sunday,” he cracked his neck. “I…yeah, gotta sort things out…with Cara…get my stuff while I’m still in Indy.” 

“Right,” her eyes started to sting, but Leslie forced a smile. “You don’t know where…” 

“Eh,” he shrugged. “I probably have an email waiting telling me where. Doesn’t really make a difference. It’s the same job whether it’s in…Gary or Bloomington.” 

He accepted his bill and slipped it neatly into his bag. 

“I’m uh,” he clawed at his cheek and peeled her away from the counter. “I don’t…I honestly haven’t done this…before.” 

“A vacation…” she gestured instead of saying the word _fling_ because that would just intensify what she was feeling… Which was complete and utter devastation. 

“Right,” he swallowed hard. “Yeah, uh, yeah.” 

“Yeah.” 

“I better go…I think the shuttle’s…” 

“Okay, well!” she managed brightly, throat tight and aching. “It was so nice to meet you and I had so much fun this week and if you’re ever in Pawnee or…need a tour guide or something…” 

“Uh, right,” he pressed his lips together in a firm line. “And if you’re in Indy or…don’t heed my advice and fuck up your budget…” 

“Right,” she nodded resolutely. “I will look you up.” 

Leslie jutted her hand out for a firm-but-professional handshake because she wasn’t sure she could bear more, and Ben quirked his mouth adorably. 

“I had a lot of fun with you this week, Leslie.” 

“Me too,” she felt the tears threatening to spill over when Ben tickled her palm with his finger. Her grip slackened and then he was just rubbing his thumb over the back of her hand. 

“Ben!” Chris called over cheerily. “Shuttle’s here!” 

Ben sighed and lifted her hand to his lips, kissing her knuckles lightly. He smiled weakly against her skin and tugged her in, dropping his mouth to her ear and whispering nothings until her stomach dropped before he pulled away and kissed her temple. 

When he released her hand and turned away her cheeks became damp very quickly. 

“Come on,” Ann slung an arm around her as Ben and Chris disappeared out the main doors. “We’ll get you a drink.” 

Leslie burrowed her face in Ann’s neck. 

“At least you aren’t thinking about Mark, right?” 

*****

Her daiquiri was delicious. It was her third in just under two hours. Her head was spinning, her eyes and throat were raw from sobbing into a pool chair cushion, and she really just wanted to get on her own plane home and never look back. 

Ann Perkins was not impressed. 

Leslie couldn’t really blame her. She was unimpressed too, but a dam had broken as soon as the first few sips of alcohol flooded her system and now she couldn’t stop. She was just so _sad_. She couldn’t enjoy the pleasant breeze or the cool water or even a political thriller. She wanted Ben. Ben’s hands to cup her face, Ben’s low chuckle, Ben’s sweet smile when it was just the two of them that she was fairly certain few people had ever seen. 

It wasn’t that a day without him was unbearable, it was that this was meant to be _it_ , this was supposed to be all she got of him and that was devastating. She almost didn’t want to preserve the happy memories like Ann insisted she should, she wanted to go to Indianapolis or whatever town he ended up being in and watch Real Life Ben chip away at everything they’d spent the better part of four days crafting. She wanted to let reality ruin everything and let that give her closure. 

Ann did not agree with this method. 

“Leslie, I’ve tried that,” she’d insisted when Leslie had explained her logic. “I’ve done that, you think it will be better and then you just hate yourself for spending your whole vacation with an asshole. The first thing you ever described Ben as was _a jerk_. If he’s a jerk here imagine what he’d be like back home.” 

But he wasn’t a jerk, Leslie had been wrong. He was reasonable and practical and worked hard and accepted being hated as a reality of his job because he felt like he was doing something good. That was actually exceptionally un-jerky. Ben was willing to be despised and never see the positive outcomes of everything he did for the greater good, instead of doing something just for recognition. 

That was actually…pretty selfless, even if he was doing it so he could run for office again. 

He wanted to _run for office_. He was going through all of this because he wanted something that badly. That was dedication. He’d cared enough about local government to run for mayor of his hometown at eighteen - 

“Leslie,” Ann’s voice was firm. “You just need to trust me that it’s better this way, and hey,” she clucked her tongue. “Look on the bright side, at least you won’t have to see him every day like you do Mark. It’ll be easier to forget about Ben.” 

Leslie loved Ann very much, but right now she needed to shut her beautiful pie hole and let Leslie get super drunk and miss Ben and think about how if he hadn’t been on the rebound she probably would’ve said something way too over the top and kissed him senseless while he considered her proposal. 

Which was dating her. 

But she couldn’t. She’d known the situation from the moment she’d started flirting with him and that was that. 

The end. 

All she wrote. 

Over and out. 

By Leslie Knope.


	11. Rule 19: Do NOT Fall for Anyone (Part I)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love you all. Thank you for comments/kudos/staying with me through this whole thing and making my day. 
> 
> Still have no idea when this is ending.

He didn't think about Leslie after his plane landed in Indianapolis, at least not at first. On the flight home yes, he was a little upset while trying to ignore Chris’s detailed commentary of all the amazing ways he'd fucked Ann Perkins, but by the time they touched down in Indy Leslie was gone from the forefront of Ben’s mind. They got in a cab and he got dropped off first where, in front of the door to his apartment, sat Cara. 

So, that was fun to come home to. 

Her eyes were puffy, her long dark hair tied in a messy bun. The glasses she wore for driving hung off her nose and she looked even skinnier than Ben remembered. It came flooding back quickly: the frustrated phone calls while he was on the road, the heady reunions, the dinners, the movie marathons, the lazy days in her apartment, the way she’d broken up with him…a flood of emotions that almost knocked him down for the count. You don’t date someone for that long without feeling _something_. 

“Ben,” her voice cracked when she spoke. He sighed, fishing his keys out of his pocket and motioning for her to move so he could let them inside. She shifted, remaining balled on the shitty carpet of his hallway, and Ben flashed to the first night he’d brought her home. The night he’d pinned her up against the wall and kissed until she couldn’t breathe properly. 

That seemed like a lifetime ago now. 

“Come in,” he shoved the door open, shivering at the chill and heading straight for the thermostat. Cara did as she was told, perching herself on the armrest of his couch and waiting to be acknowledged. 

He took his time, throwing his bag into his room and checking his cell phone to buy time before re-emerging and folding his arms expectantly. 

“Honey, I am so sorry,” she squeaked, pushing her fringe away from her face. “It was a horrible week and I got bumped from the conference and I just…I hadn’t seen you in so long and then you left and I know that’s no excuse but I am really, so incredibly sorry. That was a horrible thing to do. There’s no way you deserved that.” 

Her dark brown eyes were earnest and she removed her glasses as if hoping to display how genuine she was being. Her thin lips puckered and her narrow jaw clenched. Every time he saw her he was reminded how pretty she was, if a little severe. 

“I love you and I’m…there’s no excuse for that. I…” Cara rose from her spot and hurried up to him, grabbing her face in her hands. Her palms were cold and she smelled of the perfume he’d bought her for Christmas. It felt familiar and practiced but somehow not quite right. Too…forced, contrived. Her gaze was almost level with his and she smiled just a touch before tilting up to kiss him. 

The instant their lips brushed he pushed her away. 

“Well, I don’t love you.” 

It was clarity he hadn’t had before, that was what made everything different now. Whether brought on by Leslie or facing the thought of his doomed relationship with distance between them, he didn’t love Cara and he never would and that was that. It was over. It had been over for a while, like he’d said, but this wasn’t an ending out of anger. This was an ending because there was a person in front of him that didn't deserve to be strung along when he knew how he felt. Or, well, didn’t feel. 

Cara stared, clutching at his t-shirt. “One week shitty week broken up and you’re over this? Me?” 

“I don’t think I ever did,” he admitted a little too honestly. Cara’s eyes welled with tears before turning black. And then she smacked him. Ben winced and stepped away, palming his stinging skin. 

“Then why did you say you did, you asshole!” 

_Because you said it_ was a really lame, really high school answer, so instead he tried: 

“I thought I did at the time. I cared about you, but I wasn’t in love with you.” 

That got him another smack and this time he latched onto her wrist. 

“Good lord, will you stop?” 

“You’re _such_ a fucking asshole, Ben! If you didn’t know what you were feeling _why would you even say that_? Are you that devoid of emotion and…compassion that you don’t even know when you’re in love with someone?” 

_Apparently_ he wanted to quip. 

“You pretended to be in love with me for over a year!” 

“I’m sorry. I really am - ”

“You know what,” she spun on her heel. “I would’ve understood if you didn't want me back. I really, really would’ve. I fucked up, I get it, but to say…what was this to you? The last eighteen months?” 

_Sex when I was in town. Someone to call when I was lonely. Someone I let in just enough to get by and kept the rest for myself. Ugh, she was right, he was an asshole._

It was _then_ he thought of Leslie. Just a flicker of a reminder, just an moment where he flashed to all those long conversations on the beach and in bed, all the smiles of encouragement she’d given him when he confessed what he truly desired. All the subtle, simple ways she made everything seem possible. 

“I,” he threw up his hands. “Yeah, I am. You’re right.” 

“Don’t be facetious.” 

“I’m not. You’re right. I really, really am the worst. I led you on and I wasted a lot of your time and I truly am sorry. I wish I had figured it out sooner and I wish I could take it back.” 

“Fuck you. Seriously,” she snapped, stalking over to her things and thrusting a bag at him. A small, plastic shopping bag worth of stuff was all he’d left at her apartment. “Here’s your shit. Leave mine with my doorman. I can’t even look at you right now you callous, unfeeling…bastard!” 

She yanked on her scarf and pushed her glasses onto her nose again, swinging her purse over her shoulder and storming out the door. 

It was then he really thought of Leslie. Alone, resigned to Cara’s hatred of him, he thought of her fiercely blue eyes blazing into him as she called him a jerk. He thought of the way her nose crinkled and her lips pouted and how he’d wanted to kiss her cute, scrunched up face for no other reason than to make her stop yelling and tell her she was adorable. He thought of her on his extremely comfortable couch in his barren apartment stroking his hair soothingly, wearing his t-shirt, her very presence enough to make everything seem less sterile. 

But there wasn’t anything he could do about that in the moment, except obsess about it. So, Ben pushed Leslie Knope out of his mind again, locked up behind Cara and went to check his email. Once he’d confirmed the details of his new assignment he hopped in the shower and went to bed, his sheets cold and stiff in a way he hadn’t remembered them being. When Ben was too tired to not think about her Leslie snuck back through his subconscious, her sweet smile and loud laugh being the thing he would recall falling asleep to. 

The next day he cleaned his apartment, packed for the new town and confirmed his motel room had been arranged for and would be ready the following night. He drove to Osgood, Indiana Sunday, threw his clothes in some drawers, and grabbed groceries at a small corner store before settling in and flipping on the news. 

He thought about her then too - Leslie, not Cara. He thought about how strange it was they’d never actually watched the news together, but it somehow felt like something they’d shared.

And after that it seemed like he couldn’t stop thinking about her. 

When he decided to go for a walk around the town the next evening and stumbled into a dusty old bookshop, he found a Henry Kissinger biography and thought of her. When he went shopping for more groceries that first Saturday he stood in front of the whipped cream section of the fridge and thought of her, of her practically assaulting him on the bed that last morning when he tried to steal some. He’d had a glob on his finger and her mouth had gotten there first and yeah…needless to say, whipped cream was ruined for him. Not that he’d ever loved it or anything. 

If Ben stumbled across historical monuments or murals in City Hall he thought of her. Whenever he met a Deputy Director (who was never even close to brimming with her enthusiasm) he thought of her. 

The Governor addressed the state of Indiana - he thought of her. 

The President addressed the nation - he thought of her, wondered if she was watching it too, as if this was their version of staring at the same moon or something. 

He understood why Ann had so shrewdly crafted a list of rules of what Leslie should and shouldn’t talk about during a vacation fling, even if it had been for Leslie’s benefit and not his. Now, knowing so many things about her meant she was everywhere. In book stores and coffee shops, he couldn’t even get through _Meet the Press_ without wondering what her running commentary would be if they watched it together. Walking through parks made his stomach twist, and he when he strolled passed an old movie theater hosting an 80s Night he started to shake with adrenaline. 

Ben couldn’t even watch _Star Wars_ without thinking of her in his fucking t-shirt (a t-shirt he still couldn’t bring himself to wear). The way her sunny blonde hair had spilled over the dark fabric and the way her ass cheeks poked out of the bottom…

She was consuming him and it was kind of stupidly unfair that she got to do that. That in less than a week she’d managed to crawl under his skin and take residence in his veins. It didn’t seem right anyone should have that much hold over him. 

His brother Henry called on his second Friday in Osgood to ask how he was doing after the Cara breakup and see how the new town was. Ben suspected Henry knew how lonely he got with just Chris for company, even if he wasn’t willing to admit it. Usually Ben would complain a lot about everything and geek out over whatever SyFy show they were both watching at the moment (currently it was the new _Battlestar Galactica_ ), and briefly discuss who they were both seeing or not seeing anymore. 

This time he talked about Leslie. For two hours. 

“So,” he could sense Henry’s hesitation, like there were so many things he wanted to say that might be either aggressively mean or borderline sappy. “Okay, wait, back up. You met her on vacation?” 

Good lord, had he not been listening for any of this? 

“Are you serious?” 

“I’m sorry, I’m…what are the odds - ”

“We’re both from Indiana? Uh, about - ”

“Okay, it’s a miracle she liked you at all after you made a dad joke involving percentages,” Henry retorted. Ben scowled. He had been listening and it was as exhausting for him to hear apparently. 

“So, Cara dumps you after a year and a half of dating and you’re all mopey over someone you knew for a week.” 

Ben grumbled in response. “I guess.” 

“I’m…" Henry cleared his throat. "I'm struggling to understand why you don’t just go find her and see if she wants to date you.” 

“Uhhhh,” Ben blinked at the phone. “Are you kidding me? It’s…you’ve…done your fair share of these…” 

“Well, you picked a horrible person to screw on vacation, _Benji_. You’re supposed to pick a girl you can’t really…stand to talk to, but enjoy fucking. You’re not supposed to pick someone you want to…actually interact with. It's like a really long one night stand.” 

“Right.” Ben swallowed hard, because he’d known this the whole time. 

“You didn’t pick someone to help you get over Cara, you picked someone who you would conceivably be super into for real and then locked yourself in a bedroom with her for a week - ”

“Four days.” 

“God, you’re a fucking idiot sometimes.” 

“Thanks,” he rubbed his forehead. “And even…she was getting over someone too, so…” 

“So, what?” 

“She’s just seemingly everywhere right now and it’s hard to move on.” 

“You're going to need a vacation hookup to get over your vacation hookup.” 

Ben snorted. “Anyway, hey, did you watch this week’s - ”

“Oh, are we done talking about your pathetic excuse for a love life? I thought I was dispensing wisdom here.”

“You were calling me a fucking idiot.” 

“Right, because you are one. So, we’re done with talking about…what’s her name?” 

Ben dropped his head into his hand. “Leslie.” 

“Leslie,” Henry repeated. “So - ”

“Yes, we’re done.” 

For now. 

“Fine.” Henry sounded exasperated. Ben kind of understood why. 

He was a fucking idiot sometimes. 

*****

“Are you still moping?” Two weeks later he was meeting Henry in Indy for a couple of days of brotherly bonding. 

Okay, an old movie theater downtown was marathoning Star Wars - the original, no special effects added, Star Wars - and Henry had driven from Chicago to go with him. And then they would get burgers and probably get a little drunk and pass out on Ben’s couch. 

Except, Henry seemed to want to talk about Ben and what was wrong with him. 

“I’m not moping.” 

He was totally moping. It had been a month since he’d come back from vacation and Leslie Knope was still everywhere while Cara was a distant memory. 

“I know you know how to find her,” Henry ruffled his hair with an annoying smirk. “Why haven’t you yet?” 

“Because…” Ben rubbed his forehead and thought of the post-it note with her office phone number tucked inside his padfolio and how many times he’d almost dialled it just because. “I’m doing the kind of job that ruins hers. If I went to her town and met her that way she’d hate me. I…” 

Henry shoved him. “You fix problems that other people created and it gets under your skin and makes you clam up and be callous because you _actually do care_ and you feel like an asshole for doing it. And if she…if _anyone_ can’t appreciate that, then screw them. This,” he tapped at his skull. “This self-loathing Ice Town shit you’ve been dragging along for the last fourteen years needs to go. Just because ridiculous fucking Partridge can’t get passed it doesn’t mean you shouldn’t. You’re…it sounds like she liked you as much as you like her and…if you think she would actually long term make you happy you need to try.” 

“Can we just…” he ran his fingers through his hair. “Can we just not…stop…” because thinking about Leslie was bad enough, but thinking about Leslie not wanting him after he put himself out there was basically unbearable. 

“Yeah,” Henry held up his palms. “Yeah, alright, sorry. I’m just…” 

“I know what you’re just,’ Ben snapped and Henry rolled his eyes, turning him towards the theater. Trust Henry to ruin a _Star Wars_ marathon. 

Trust Leslie Knope to still be ruining a _Star Wars_ marathon four weeks later. 

*****

“I just…can’t stop wondering what would’ve happened if we hadn’t met…there” 

“Will you just fucking call her?” Henry growled. They were both pretty drunk ten hours later, staring at Ben’s TV. Ben sighed. 

 “You’ve been obsessing about her for a month and you were over Cara in a day. This is insanity. _Call her_ , rip off the bandaid, see where you stand.” 

Again, Ben sighed. 

Maybe. 

He was thinking about it.


	12. Rule 19: Do NOT Fall for Anyone (Part II)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, I love you all, here's the next chapter! Please keep leaving me comments and kudos and making my day <3.

Home was home. she’d missed it, without question. She’d exhaled in relief when she’d finally opened the front door to her house and threw her bags down in the entry way before flopping on the couch. Even Leslie Knope felt exhausted after flights and connections and more flights and it was just…good to be with her things. 

Also, she’d danced with Ann at the bar until five AM the night before, crashed pretty hard and then gotten up early to catch the shuttle to the airport. After a week of sleeping a lot less than she normally would, she was burnt out. Thankfully it was Saturday and she had the rest of the weekend to freshen up and get ready to go back to work. 

Which she was super excited to do, because vacation had been great for her brainstorming-wise, and she really did have _so many_ ideas to generate revenue for the department. Like Harvest Fest and a telescope for the old observatory and 80s movie night and… 

The tears had dried up, even if her sadness over Ben lingered. Leslie had certainly lived through worse and this would not get her down. 

As a strong, independent, 30-something woman she should totally call Ben and tell him she wanted to date him for real. 

As a strong, independent, 30-something woman who understood how emotionally crushing break ups could be, she respected that he wouldn’t be ready to jump into anything else. That it was likely he was grieving the end of his relationship with Cara, or had gotten back together with Cara after they’d talked things out. After she’d realized she’d let a sweet, funny, nerdy, sexy, considerate man go for a stupid reason. Really, she’d be crazy not to want him back. 

Also, Leslie had a plan. The plan was to wait a respectable eight to twelve weeks and then casually bump into Ben, perhaps at the State House in Indianapolis when he was between assignments. That should be enough time for him to figure out what he wanted and (hopefully) get over the acute feelings of sadness surrounding Cara, and at least maybe consider the possibility of dating someone else. 

Her. He should date her. Yes, long distance would super suck and yes, that was probably the primary reason his relationship had ended, but Leslie Knope was not a quitter and she wouldn't be the type to give up so easily. 

And if he had gotten back together with Cara a casual run-in would be the perfect way for him to tell her without anyone being embarrassed of what they were still feeling. And who knew, she might not even like him after not talking to him for two to three months. 

No, she would. She super would. She better start working on a _How to Have a Casual Run-In to See if a Guy You Were Crazy About For Four Days Wants to Date You_ binder. 

She’d have to stick to the rules this time though. 

But first there was a different binder she needed to work on and it was titled _Adult Conversations Post One Night Stand with a Friend: How to broach the subject properly months after the fact._

She had to talk to Mark. They’d spoken since then, of course, but not about that. Not without the underlying awkwardness of knowing they’d seen each other almost-naked while they were really drunk and had weirdly indecisive sex (which, okay, she wouldn’t have described it as before her week with Ben). 

They needed to sit down and discuss where they stood…and possibly why Mark felt the need to high-tail it out of her place and completely disregard her attempt to make him breakfast so they could talk about their feelings. If they were friends they should be able to work through this, right? 

So, on Monday morning, armed with her binder filled with ice breakers and possible responses to difficult questions, Leslie strode through the Parks Department in her favourite pair of click-y black heels and a blouse that made her breasts look amazing (according to Ann) and headed to the City Planner’s office. 

Mark was hunched over his table, sketching something disinterestedly between sips of coffee. 

“Hey,” she knocked lightly and smiled when he looked up. Mark smiled back gently, and for the first time since she’d met him her heart didn’t flutter in response. It might be a smile, but it didn’t touch his eyes. 

“Heeeey, Knope,” he spun in his chair and leaned back. “How was your trip? You look…” he crinkled his nose. “Freckly.” 

That made her stomach twist for no apparent reason. 

Alright, no, that was a lie. There was a reason. Ben had muttered she was _freckly_ into her skin and kissed every new one he’d discovered… Okay, okay, no thinking about Ben right now. 

“It was amazing! We had the best time.” 

“But you’re glad to be back?” Mark winked and she laughed because yes, she was glad to be back. That kind of comment was something she would’ve built up in her head before, but it really didn’t mean anything. Anyone who knew her knew how much she loved work, Mark stating as much didn’t mean he was particularly interested or involved in her life. 

And deep down she’d known that all along, but she had perspective now. 

“Yes,” she nodded and shrugged. “Yes, of course I am. I have some ideas for new projects and it was just really great to take a little break…get some perspective.”

“Right,” Mark tilted his head curiously. “Yeah, that’s…that’s great.” 

“Anyway, um…I…I was wondering if I could talk to you for a minute. Now, or if you want we can grab lunch and do it then, or after work, because I don’t want to put you on the spot or anything but - ”

“Uh, about what?” 

“The…” she cleared her throat. “That night…sleeping together.” 

Mark’s mouth popped open. “Right,” he stated carefully and then stood up, brushing passed her and closing the door. 

“Okay.” 

“Okay,” she took a breath and settled in the seat across from him. “Okay, so um…that…” 

“I’m…I'm sorry Leslie, I’m not…that night was a mistake. I…Ann let it slip you had feelings for me and we were really drunk and…I shouldn’t have done that. I shouldn’t have kissed you. I’m…I really didn’t want to hurt you, I’m sorry.” 

“It’s okay,” she smiled tightly, annoyed at the lump that had formed in her throat. Because even with perspective and knowing all that she knew, being told the object of your affection and friend took advantage of your feelings and drunkenness hurt. 

“I’m…I’m sorry for leading you, I just don’t…feel that way about you.” 

“I know,” she smiled tightly. “And I agree. We’re better as friends.” 

He stared at her in disbelief. “We…are?” 

“I think so.” She swallowed hard. “I’m…I mean I did…at the time, want something to happen and I kind of still did for a while after, but I…the _physical_ chemistry wasn’t really there for me, you know? I think I was building it up.” 

Wait, did she just kind of tell Mark he'd been bad in bed? That wasn’t supposed to happen. 

“I really like you as a friend,” she reiterated. “And I’m sorry I’ve been acting weird - ”

“No, no, it’s my fault too. I…” he ran a hand through his hair. “I was under the impression you were upset because you wanted…more.” 

The color had drained from his face which made her a little too happy. 

“I thought I did,” she admitted. “But I…things have changed,” she swallowed the lump and squared her shoulders. “And I care about you - as a friend - and I wish you nothing but happiness with Tiff - ”

“We broke up.” 

“Oh.” 

He was studying her, as if he was expecting to draw a reaction by revealing this, which made Leslie bristle just a touch. She was honestly over him, why would that change because he was single now? 

“I’m sorry to hear that,” she reached forward and patted his wrist gingerly. “She seemed really sweet.” 

“Uh,” Mark rubbed his brow. “Yeah, are you…you seem different?” 

Now Leslie smiled in a way she hoped was understanding, but still felt like she held a secret Mark would never know the answer to. 

“I’m great,” she shifted in her seat. “Like I said, I just got a little perspective.” 

“Right,” Mark leaned back, pulling his hand out from under hers. 

“Anyway,” she stood up quickly. “I better go, talk to Ron, see what I missed and tell him all my ideas. It was…thanks for…I’m glad we talked this out.” 

“Me too.” Though, from the look on his face he didn’t seem glad. Leslie tucked her binder under her arm and gave a little wave. 

“So, I’ll see you later?” 

“Yeah, sure, later Leslie.” 

She flashed him a smile before spinning on her heel and striding back out the door. 

***** 

In truth, as the days wore on she thought about Ben less. She threw herself into her work, of course, and though there were definitely moments when she’d see something on TV and vaguely wonder if he was the only other person she knew watching it, for the most part she was able to keep thoughts of him at bay. She did get frustrated when, ten days after returning, her new vibrator arrived and, despite her most earnest attempts, wasn’t able to recreate the feeling of Ben’s fingers and tongue. She ended up picturing him - which she definitely should not have - and came twice with his name on her lips and her new, plum-colored contraption humming in a cheap imitation of his mouth. And then she started to cry because she missed the sound of his voice and the sensation of his hot skin under her fingers as she came down. 

But that was an exception. For the most part she was able to not think about him too much, which Leslie considered a massive success. And it definitely surprised Ann. 

Twenty-seven days after their return she was out with Ann and Parks at the Snakehole. On the dance floor between songs, a tipsy Ann sheepishly confessed that while in Indianapolis for a nursing seminar she’d met up with Chris and slept with him. It was the first time Leslie had ever felt completely and utterly betrayed by her best friend in the whole world. The tears had come quickly, furiously and without warning, and Ann had pulled her to the side and held her arms. 

“Les, I am so sorry. He was back at his apartment and we kind of exchanged numbers on vacation and we just…hooked up again. I was out with some friends and…he was just really, really good and I was horny and…” 

“B-but,” Leslie breathed, but couldn’t stop the sobs. “You…you said not to…to do that. You said what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas and…a-and…” 

Leslie was so overwhelmed with sadness and anger that the words wouldn't come for the first time in her adult life. She started to shake. 

“You told me I couldn’t…with Ben, because - ”

“Because you really liked him and - ”

“You! You really liked Chris!” She snapped. “You liked him so much you went to see him in Indianapolis and didn’t even tell me about it because…and h-he…he made me really happy and I still think about him and you…and you…” 

Just because she was functional didn’t mean she was over everything. 

“I know, Les, I know. I’m sorry. I didn’t…but regardless, Ben is still getting over someone. Chris said Cara showed up at his apartment and they had a huge blow out and he’s been even mopier than usual, and I think you would’ve stood to get really hurt - Les, where are you going?” 

Leslie stormed off, a move she’d never really been proud of, but she was very drunk and really angry and words were failing her. 

“Les!’ Ann called after her. “Don’t…I’m sorry! Please, talk to me - ”

“GO AWAY ANN!” Leslie bellowed, storming into the women’s bathroom and locking the door behind her. She slumped over the counter and started to cry, mostly because of alcohol but also because Ann had talked her into keeping a rule that Ann herself hadn’t even kept and now she really, really missed Ben and she couldn’t even call - 

“What up, Knope?” Donna emerged from the only stall with a door closed and motioned for Leslie to move so she could use the sink, acting like Leslie’s whole body wasn’t convulsing. Leslie reached for a tissue and dabbed her eyes, finding some composure as Donna folded her arms expectantly. 

And then she told Donna everything. _Everything_. Every detail from meeting Ben to yelling at him and the boat trip, to almost having sex with him and then having sex with him, to his ex-girlfriend and what had happened with Ann and Chris. 

And also about Rules 13 and 17. 

Donna just listened and, when she was finally done, raised an eyebrow. 

“Oh, Knope.” 

Leslie looked up and Donna sighed. 

“You met someone just as nerdy as you are, had awesome sex and fell for him.” 

“Yes,” Leslie gulped. “Yes, that’s…it, essentially. I broke all of the rules.” 

“Uhhhh,” Donna arched the other eyebrow. “The nurse has it all wrong. There’s no such thing as rules for a vacation hookup. You do what makes you feel good. You want to give him your number, you give him your number; you want to drive across Indiana and find your nerd boy and tell him you got it bad, then you do that. Vacation sex has no rules. That’s why it’s so awesome.” 

Leslie’s mouth popped open. 

“And there’s definitely no rule that says you can’t like the person you’re boning. You get that now, right?”

Donna patted her shoulder a little too aggressively. “Also, guys don’t care about the rebound thing if they like you. If he cared about the rebound thing he wouldn’t have slept with you in the first place. If they’re fucking you, they’re done rebounding. That’s the law of the jungle.” 

“So…” 

“If he likes you he’s not going to ask for more time to …process his feelings or some shit like that. Go find him and tell him how you feel and if he feels the same great, and if not you move on. It’s not that complicated,” she gestured at Leslie’s disheveled appearance. “And you seriously need to go home because you are a hot mess.” 

“Yes,” Leslie cleared her throat and wiped the smeared mascara under her eyes. “Yes, I do.” 

“I’ll talk to the nurse,” Donna flicked the lock and gestured at the door. “Get out of here.” 

Leslie didn’t need to be told twice. 

***** 

Home alone that night she spiralled a little further. She cried into her pillow over her fight with Ann, and reminisced about every moment of her trip and of Ben and how great everything had been. She thought about how _happy_ she had been, in a way that only work used to make her. She thought about how smart and amazing and sexy she’d felt and while she shouldn’t (and didn’t) _need_ anyone else’s validation, Ben had given it freely. Ben had made her feel like all of her quirks - that even Ann thought were a little weird - were attractive and endearing and made him like her more. It was the most in her element she’d ever felt outside of running a public forum and Ann’s stupid rule had made her hold back, and then Ann had gone and broken the rule herself, and Leslie was just…

So. Mad. 

It was several days before Leslie decided to figure out how to find Ben Wyatt. 

On Tuesday she got the number for his assistant in Indianapolis. 

On Wednesday she placed a call to that number and left a voicemail asking for Ben’s contact information for whatever new town he was in. 

And possibly a much too detailed description of how she knew him…

On Thursday she made up with Ann, who promised she would get in touch with Chris and find out the details of their current assignment, (because she apparently had learned nothing when they met up in Indy,) if Leslie still wanted them. 

_Obviously_ she wanted them. Even if Ben didn’t want her, she had to at least ask him and know for herself. Like Donna said. 

On Friday she was called out to the golf course with Animal Control to deal with Fairway Frank who was terrorizing patrons - again. After several hours without success, the sun had long set and she’d been left alone with a cartoon-ish sized net to try and catch him herself...because it was Friday night and nobody else wanted to work late, but she was _so close_ she couldn’t bring herself to leave. It was drizzly and cold, and the only sound was the occasional rustle of the wind through the trees. 

“So,” a sharp voice cut the darkness, washing over her like warm, turquoise blue waters. Leslie froze and let her eyes fall shut, the net dropping to the damp grass. 

“I was told after a very aggressive round of questioning that I would find Leslie Knope of the Pawnee Parks Department out here. Alone, trying to catch a possum, which doesn’t seem all that safe if you ask me…” 

Her mouth went dry and every muscle in her body forgot how to move. 

_Ben._


	13. Rule 25: If It Feels Good, Do It

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiiii everyone. I love youuuu <3\. The response to this little story idea I had has been overwhelming to say the least and makes me very happy, so thank you so much.

He doesn't call her. 

He starts driving to Pawnee instead. 

It had been a particularly shitty Friday with Chris’s signature brand of “smoothing over” taking up most of it while Ben hid in his office and tried not to make eye contact with anyone. At 3:03pm he’d gotten in his car and, without devoting any conscious though towards it, he’d sped passed his motel and hit the freeway Northwest as if it was the most usual thing in the world. 

The weather didn’t know if it wanted to be snow or rain and the roads were slick as Ben drove. They’d handed out the first round of job cuts on Thursday - well, he had, Chris had stood behind him and patted the fired employees on the back as they left, reassuring them it would be okay… And now Ben was on his way to a woman who smelled like sunshine and tasted like vanilla cupcakes that he needed to at least see to dislodge the knot that had settled in his chest the day he’d left her at the hotel. 

He just…really felt like he needed to see her after the week he’d had. Which was insane, because he could get there and she could want nothing to do with him. He could get there and she could turn her nose up at him, and…

Ben hadn’t really had a vacation…thing before, and he definitely didn’t have a binder full of rules to guide him, but he was pretty sure he understood how they worked. They were great because there was a set endpoint, they were made to exist outside the confines of reality where work and family and stress weighed on you. Everything was temporary, fluid and fun because it didn’t matter that Ben was a jerk who sent people home with pink slips and, if they were really lucky, a decent severance package; it didn’t matter he’d been impeached (not that 99% of the people he met knew or cared) or that he still walked around with a chip on his shoulder as a result. It didn’t matter he was super into Star Wars and SyFy and claymation. 

Because it was a vacation sex thing and vacation sex things ended. Vacation sex things meant you could reveal as little as you wanted about yourself and when you got on that plane everything fell away. You were left with a few fun memories, a quieted libido and a clear head. 

Except he hadn’t left with any of that.  

He’d left without her and all he saw now were pretty blue eyes and a radiant smile when he reacted to the DJ playing REM. Fuck, he was twitching just thinking about her. Naked and writhing beneath him, but also warm and cuddly beside him, her loud cackle cutting through his skin as easily as her teeth. At the end of shitty day, week, month, he had to try. He had to try and see if there was a reality of his that Leslie Knope could cut through as well. 

It was a pretty standard City Hall building and he’d seen a lot of those, so Ben didn’t spend too much time studying it or reading plaques in the dying light. He figured Leslie would take him on an extensive tour herself if this worked out, so the less he saw the better. 

The Parks Department, he was informed curtly by a security guard, was on the first floor, so Ben shoved his keys into the pocket of a wool coat his mother had bought him for Christmas (insisting he needed a _nice_ business-appropriate coat) and made his way down the hall. There was a big sign outside the double doors and they were open a crack, light filtering through into the dusty hallway. Ben pushed inside and took in his surroundings. 

It was…bigger than he expected. There was a large counter with an older, heavy-set man at an oddly small desk towards the very back. There was a woman with a severe bob partially obscured by a plant to his left, but he could see dark hands and long nails poking out on the keyboard, and there were two offices to his right. The one closest to him looked shut down for the day, but the second still had a light on with one tall and one short guy standing inside. 

But no flash of blonde hair, no cackle. 

“Can I help you?” The older man stood with a slightly-too-wide smile and tripped as he rushed towards Ben. Ben took a step back reflexively and swallowed. 

“Uh…yeah, I’m…looking for Leslie Knope. They said this is her…” 

“Who are you?” The woman to his left came into view wearing a bright, geometric top and huge, glittery earrings. Were those real diamonds? Good lord. 

“I’m…uh…” he gulped, because he knew that must be Donna and he knew Leslie’s officemate’s name was Tom, and he knew somewhere in the building was probably Mark the City Planner, who had fucked her and then wanted nothing to do with her, and Ben was suddenly feeling…sweaty. 

“Ben Wyatt. I work for the state.” 

“Oh geeze,” the man shuffled uncomfortably. “Leslie’s not in trouble is she? Are you sure you aren’t looking for Ron?” 

“Uh, no, I’m…is she not…here?” 

“Who’s he?” The shorter man strolled out in a three-piece suit and a green ascot. 

“He’s from the state, Tom. Did Leslie say…” 

“Whoooooa, Leslie’s in trouble with the state? What’d she do? Only file three hundred grant proposals last year?” 

Ben’s lips twitched at that, but he managed to keep his face straight. 

“She’s out doing some stuff,” a fourth voice interrupted. Tall guy, not broad but not lanky, with round eyes and brown hair. For some reason, maybe his tone, Ben had a weird feeling…

“Will you fools let this idiot speak?” Donna blasted at all of them and then spun to face Ben. “Well? Spit it out.” 

“Look,” he gestured with his hands the way he did when he was trying to stop everyone from yelling at him at a budget meeting. “Leslie is not in trouble. I’m from the state, but that’s not why I’m here, I’m…a friend. We met…on vacation.” 

Donna’s eyes widened and her mouth spread into a grin. 

_“Ohhhhh._ ” 

“What?” Tall Guy lifted an eyebrow and the older man looked really confused, but smiled again. 

“You’re a friend of Leslie’s? Well, it’s so nice to meet you. I’m Jerry, and that there’s Donna and Tom, and Mark doesn’t work in Parks, but he’s  - ”

_Bingo._

“Shut up, Jerry, nobody cares,” Tom rolled his eyes. “Well, this has been fun, but Leslie’s not here and we’re going out, even if I’d love to talk to this person about how she got vacation-laid.” 

Mark’s eyes turned beady and landed on him, one half of his mouth curving upwards. Ben cursed internally when he felt the flush creeping up the back of his neck. 

“Well, she’s not here. Sorry.” 

“She’s at - ”

Mark hit Jerry on the back of the head. 

“She’s not here. She’s out, like I said.” 

“Well, could you tell me where she is - ”

“How do we know you know her?” Mark shrugged casually. Ben blinked. 

“Dude, are you serious? You think I just drove all the way from…seriously?” 

“No, no, Brendanawicz is right. Maybe you’re a serial killer.” 

“I work for _the state_ ,” Ben snapped, irritated now. He yanked his ID badge off of his slacks and shoved it in their direction. “See? Ann… I met Ann. She works at the hospital, how would I know that if I didn’t…” 

“Well, fine,” Mark shrugged. “I’m not just going to tell you where she is. What if you’re some creepy stalker or something - ”

“Oh my god, I’m not,” he threw up his hands in exasperation. “I just came to see Leslie and if she was here she’d - ”

“WHAT IS THE MEANING OF ALL OF THIS?” 

A man of average height with broad shoulders and a moustache emerged from the other office with a jacket and a briefcase in hand. 

“It is now, currently, 5:02pm and you people are keeping me from a glass of whiskey and a flank steak! You - ” He thrust a finger in Ben’s direction. “Who are you?” 

“He’s from the state, he says he banged Leslie on vacation - ”

“Good lord,” he hissed and rubbed his brow, taking a breath and reiterating what he just said. Ron - obviously, Ron - glanced between everyone and Donna made a muted little noise behind Ben when Ron held Mark’s gaze for an instant before turning back. 

“She’s at the golf course trying to catch Fairway Frank. She was supposed to be back by now.” 

“Uh…what?” 

“Take a right on Main St. and make a left on Elm and keep going,” Donna shoved his shoulder until he twisted to face her. Her gaze was scrutinizing, but amused. “You’ll see the signs.  You can’t miss it.” 

“Thank you,” he exhaled in relief and moved towards the door, but Ron caught his arm. 

“Son, I’m not one to get involved in the personal affairs of my employees, but if you hurt Leslie I will kill you and make it look like an accident.” 

Ben blanched, eyes widening in horror as Ron’s eyes darted back to Mark, yet again, who was suddenly very interested in the floor. 

“Uh, yeah, sure,” Ben jostled his keys. “Thanks for your…help.” 

He’d never been so relieved to leave a building in his life. 

Donna’s directions were spot on and the golf course was easy to find, even in the drizzle. The parking lot was empty, save for one lone silver sedan that Ben pulled up beside. It was pitch black and totally eerie as Ben jogged through the course. 

He found her on the sixth hole, wearing a a jumpsuit with ANIMAL CONTROL emblazoned on the back and holding a large net, everything too long on her and her blonde ponytail shining in the darkness. His stomach clenched at the first glimpse of her tiny frame. 

She was still adorable and, if possible, even more ridiculous than he’d imagined and he only liked her more for it. It took everything in him not to run towards her. 

“So,” he spoke when he was in earshot, hoping he masked the tremor in his voice. He watched her shoulders hunch. “I was told I would find Leslie Knope of the Parks Department out here. Alone, trying to catch a possum, which, doesn’t seem that safe if you ask me. I haven’t done the risk calculation yet, but you’re pretty small and if it was a particularly large and aggressive possum…”  

The net fell from her hands and she turned so slowly his breath caught. By the time his gaze met hers his heart was in his throat. 

“Ben!” her eyes were wide as she fussed with her hair. Her shoulders were rounded and Ben wasn’t sure if this was due to surprise at seeing him or just natural, every day Leslie he hadn’t met yet. 

He wanted to know, But either way, he wanted her.  

“What…what are you doing here!? Did you get my message…?” 

He shrugged. “I was in the neighborhood and thought I’d stop by at the greatest town in America…although, you know the sign doesn’t say that, right? You might want to get someone on that…” 

And then she was striding towards him as quickly as her short legs would allow. Ben took a few steps of his own down the grass. Her arms opened widely to embrace him with a big smile, and he smiled back and went right for her lips, catching them and cupping her face in his hands. It still fit right, her jaw slotting nicely in his palm. The kiss was slow with gentle pressure and closed mouths, but it was a kiss. A more-than-friends kiss. 

“Hey,” he breathed, forehead resting against hers. Leslie’s hands moved up to hold his biceps. “Full disclosure, I suck at vacation flings because I haven’t stopped thinking about you for five weeks and I have no idea if you…have something else going on or whatever - so if you do, sorry about kissing you -  but I just…” 

His fingers curled in her hair. “Work…was kind of shitty and I got in my car and I…left early to…yeah, see you.” 

She grinned, but even in the darkness he could tell her eyes were watery. Ben wound his arms around her shoulders. 

“D-do you…?” he swallowed hard. “Have something else going on?” 

“No.” 

“Thank god,” he found her lips again, pressing more insistently and Leslie laughed and pushed up on her toes, into his mouth. 

“Also, you were right about Cara,” he pecked his lips to to the tip of her nose. “She said…she overreacted and could we try again.” 

“Oh.” 

“Mhmmm, she said ‘I’m so sorry, I overreacted, let’s try again please’,” he dropped his forehead to hers when she tensed in his arms. “And all I could do was think about you.”  

“Oh.” 

He laughed softly, holding her face. “So. I thought maybe you could…take me on that tour and…” 

“Ann slept with Chris in Indy and I was so mad at her, and then I called your secretary there and left a message, but…you didn’t get it?” 

“Not yet,” he tucked an errant curl behind her ear. “She checks in with us once a week on Mondays so…” he trailed off, pressing his face to her hair and inhaling. Her shampoo was different. Better. Everything on the trip had been floral and fragrant but here it smelled earthy and damp. The light lavender scent from her hair was like a burst of energy. And it was softer, silkier and slid through his fingers easier. 

“How long can you stay?” she whispered into his chest, her breath warming him as her arms slid under his coat and around his waist. Whatever was happening was so natural it was as if they were falling into step beside each other in a way they should’ve been all along.

“Uh, until Sunday night I guess, but I haven’t got a hotel or anything - ”

“Ben! Don’t be insane, you’ll stay with me!” 

He grinned and rubbed her arms, noting this was the first time he’d ever seen her shivering. It was adorable, really. Her nose crinkled and her flesh was covered with goosebumps and she was just as cute in the midwest during late winter and she had been in the Caribbean heat. 

“Also, I stand by what I said. It doesn’t seem safe you're out here alone.” 

“I have pepper spray.” 

“Of course you do.” 

“And I wasn’t alone, but everyone left because it was late and Friday night and…” 

“And you’d rather be here.” 

“Ben, I was _so close_.” 

“You are _so stubborn._ ” He cupped the back of her head and slid his lips over hers. She grinned. 

“It’s cold. You wanna get out of here and get some waffles, or - ”

“No,” her body pressed flush against him. “I want to take you home with me,” her tongue that he’d definitely been missing flicked his lower lip. “Tour starts tomorrow.” 

Ben groaned and let her tug back to the parking lot. They made it as far as her car when he pinned her against it and kissed her like he’d been dying to since he made the decision to drive to Pawnee. Slowly, teasing her mouth open until she sighed, one hand on her neck and the other on her waist. She tasted like chocolate, which he imagined she kept in her glove compartment, and that made him kiss her harder, the only sounds lips smacking and her palm scraping against his cheek. 

“Mhmm,” she exhaled, brushing the rainwater off his face. His arms tightened and he pecked her lips lightly. 

“I really missed you,” he admitted, holding her into his chest. “Like, wanted to call you about fifty times since we got back, missed you. I have your number on a post-it in my briefcase and I didn't know if you…” 

“I missed you too,” she sighed and sank into him. Ben sighed back, feeling like he could truly relax against her now. They swayed in the drizzle and he started to suggest they make their way inside when headlights illuminated them. Leslie turned in confusion and her brow furrowed at the sight of a pickup truck. 

“Is that…Mark?” 

Ben groaned into her hair. “He thinks I’m going to murder you or something.” 

“What - wait, what?” 

“I had to go to City Hall. That’s how I found you.” 

“Crap.” 

“I met your department and Ron threatened to kill me, or…it was an odd…encounter.” 

“Oh my god, I’m sorry,” she kissed him with a smile as Mark’s car pulled up beside them. “Just…stay there and I’ll talk to Mark and then we can go to my place and eat pancakes and…” 

He squeezed her hand as she pulled away, running over to Mark’s truck with her arms wound around himself. The knot in his chest was just a bubble of happiness now. Mark got out of the truck and basically glared at him while he leaned down to talk to Leslie. Ben found himself wondering if this was a jealousy thing, a territorial thing, or that he liked having Leslie pining for him. 

Well, she wasn’t. So, suck it. 

Leslie didn’t return to him until Mark was pulling away, after obviously being told she was fine and he could go. When she ran back - still in the Animal Control jumpsuit - her teeth were starting to chatter. 

“You can just follow me?” 

“Sure.” 

A part of him, a slightly anxious, much more cynical, spiralling part of Ben, considered the possibility that Mark displaying some jealousy at his arrival would make Leslie reconsider her position. That maybe she’d rather date the asshole who only wanted her when somebody else did, but she’d been harboring feelings for for years, over him - the guy she spent less than a week getting to know who was probably feeling way too much. 

The sheet of paper in Ben’s briefcase now made him a little self-conscious. Maybe he’d hold off on that until he assessed the situation. 

Her house was secluded and sitting back on the street with a porch light already on. Leslie pulled into the driveway and he followed and took a deep breath before turning off the ignition and getting out. He brought his briefcase with him, but left the emergency overnight bag (it was necessary for working on the road so much) in his backseat. Again, just until he could assess the situation. Leslie’s brow furrowed. 

“Did you not bring clothes?”

“Oh,” his cheeks grew hot. “No, I…I didn’t want to be presumptuous.” 

“Ben! Don’t be silly! Get your stuff!” 

She was bossier in Pawnee, sparkling just as brightly, but more authoritative. He did as he was told, closing the distance between them and leaning in. Her hands came up to push his hair back. 

“So? Don’t leave me in suspense, was Mark jealous or does he think I’m going to murder you?” 

“Neither, I don’t know, I wasn’t listening, who cares,” she threw her hand up dramatically and then yanked his mouth to hers. Ben groaned as their lips collided and her tongue eagerly sought out his. His arms wound around her waist and he lifted her gently with a sigh. 

“Oh my god,” her legs wrapped around him. “Ben, I’m seriously so happy you’re here,”  there was a catch in her voice and her eyes turned glassy again. Ben stroked her back, pressing her gently into her front door. 

“I kept thinking about how you were probably going to get back with Cara and then I…” she sighed and rested her chin on his shoulder. “I just…kept thinking I’m just really bad at vacation hookups because the whole time I was picturing you here,” she hiccupped. “And now you _are_ here.” 

"I found Pawnee on a map the week I got home and…same,” he pinned her back and kissed her hard and then slid his mouth to the little patch of soft skin under chin. 

“Keys?” 

“Mhmm,” she slapped lightly until he set her back on her feet and laughed. His arms hugged her waist from behind and he pressed his face to her neck and inhaled. 

“You still smell like sunshine,” he nuzzled. “I don’t even have to go to the beach.” 

She laughed and said he was silly, but then moaned when his tongue found her earlobe. Every cell in his body was throbbing with need now. A need hear her make noises he’d been dreaming about for five weeks; a need to slid his fingers over her warm skin; a need to feel her undone beneath him. 

“Ben, Ben, keys. I’m getting.” 

He chuckled and pressed his face to her hair, rubbing her waist gently. “Nice jumpsuit by the way.” 

“Shuuuuut up, I didn’t know I was going to be seeing a cute state auditor today.” 

“Oh hey, can I have your number? I found your office number, but your cell would be great. I meant to ask - ”

She cackled, that loud cackle he'd been imagining, as they stumbled inside together. Her small hands held his face between them while he worked her out of her jumpsuit and muttered to _burn that_ and he kicked the door shut behind them. 

****** 

They made it as far as her couch. 

Kind of? Like, half on the floor and then half on the couch and then back on the floor again, which was a little awkward because her house was _filled_ with boxes of various…well, crap, as far as he could tell, but they ended up on her rug breathless and sweaty with Leslie’s head on his chest and her hand stroking his ribs. He reached out and grabbed a blanket to pull over them and she sighed contently and pressed her mouth to his chest. 

“Where did you drive from?” 

He yawned, his head hurting and his vision blurry from exhaustion and release. “Not far,” he lied and palmed her head. “Your floor is cold. Do you want to go take a shower or something?” 

“Uh huh.” He murmured when she squirmed on top of him, draping across his body and kissing his throat. “And I’ll make us pancakes for dinner.” 

“Mhmm.” 

“And…what else do you want to do?” 

“Talk to you,” he kissed her ear. “Hear about everything in the last…” 

“You made me cry a lot, Benjamin.” 

Ben lifted his head and kissed her nose. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t sure if you’d want to…start something, or if you’d even like me - ”

“I like you so much.”

“You like vacation me, real world me is - ” 

“Ben.” She cupped his cheeks and held his eyes. “I like you. There’s no such thing as vacation you and real you, they’re both the same person. You’re supposed to be smart, you should get that.” 

Ben laughed and sat up so he could hold her against his chest. 

“I just…kept thinking about you and what would happen when you came back and what if Mark stopped being ridiculous and realized he wanted to be with you - ”

She kissed him hard. “Ben,” she growled. “I really like you, but I’m going to need you to not say his name when we’re naked or I’ll punch you in the face. The day I went back to work I saw… _him_ and we talked and I told him the sex was lame and we were better as friends…or something, kind of.”

Ben blinked and started to laugh, rolling her. “Uhhhhh what?”  

“Yes. I did that. You…inspired me to do that.” 

Ben chuckled and dropped his forehead to her chest. “Sorry, no more talking about it” he palmed her ass and stood with her still wrapped around him. Leslie squawked and laughed, clinging to him. 

“I’m so happy you’re here, Ben.” She dropped her forehead to his. “I wanted to go find you, but I also wanted to give you space because of everything and I…god, I’m so happy you’re here.”

“Me too, honey,” he slid his lips down her throat as he carried her up the stairs. The rest of her house was just as cluttered as the main floor and made it difficult to multitask, so Ben stopped kissing her long enough to be directed through her bedroom door. 

He grinned stupidly while he watched her set the water temperature and pull out fresh towels. 

He grinned even wider when he realized she was grinning stupidly too. 

*****

“What's this?” 

It was later, much later, and they were snuggled in the middle of her bed with his chin on her shoulder. He’d finally grabbed the piece of paper from his briefcase and held it in front of her, brushing his mouth over her arm. 

“For your binder,” he yawned into her neck as Leslie pulled it in front of her. Her eyes locked on the title and he felt her tense. 

“What’s…when did you…?” 

“Uh…on the plane kind of, and then I just typed it up and thought if I did…I thought you’d…” he was saved from having to form a coherent sentence when she kissed him and turned back to the paper, forearms shaky. Ben rubbed them and squeezed her tighter. Leslie cleared her throat. 

**“** Rules for Not Having a Vacation Hookup by Ben Wyatt… 1. Pick someone you really, really like and want to be around all the time,” it was a little sappy but her smile was worth it. She tangled their fingers against her stomach. 

“2. What happens in Vegas definitely does not stay in Vegas, even if you’re really in Vegas,” she cackled and he chuckled into her shoulder. 

“I like that.” 

“I thought you would.” 

“3. Talk about important stuff, even exes, just don’t dwell on it,” her expression softened. “4. If it feels good, do it. 5. If it makes you happy, do it,” she hooked her foot around his ankle. They were cold, even under her blankets. 

“6. Try stuff you wouldn’t normally try,” Leslie licked her lips. “Like fingering me on the beach?” 

“And light bondage.” 

“ _Mhmm_ , that was fun. We should try that again,” she licked her lips. “7. Definitely dabble in historical role-play, because it’s awesome.” 

“So maybe President Reagan ties up Prime Minister Thatcher - ”

He tried to do the voice and they both erupted in a fit of giggles that lasted several minutes and resulted in the paper squished as Leslie turned to face him. She finally wiped the streaks of moisture from her face with a laugh and went back to reading. 

“8. Cuddle excessively while you can,” she kissed his chin and his hand tightened around her waist. “Does this count?” 

“I mean,” he nuzzled her neck. “I’ve barely stopped touching you since I got here so that’s pretty excessive…but I’m also only here for two nights, so…I think that counts, yes.” 

“Mhmmm,” she kissed his throat. “9. Definitely talk about: feminist icons, parks projects, running for office, the national debt and political biographies.” 

“And work and families and documentaries and…stuff you care about.” 

“Uh huh,” he rolled onto his back and kept her tucked against his side. “10. If you happen to fall for a cute blonde with a plethora of idea binders and political thrillers who is also into all of the above…” she gulped and her eyes brimmed with moisture. “DO…NOT…let her get away because…” she hid her face in his chest. “You will…regret it for the rest of your life.” 

Tears slid down her cheeks and he pushed them away quickly. 

“Look, I’m…not trying to put weird pressure on you, and I know…we barely know each other really, but,” he pulled the paper to the side and cupped her hands in his. “I would…regret not at least trying with you.” 

“Me too,” she sniffled and he kissed her nose and then her lips and then she was on top of him, lips eagerly pressing into his, tongue flicking the roof of his mouth, thighs hugging his hips. They murmured a little while they made out, the list falling off the bed and his hand worming into her panties. God, she was soaked. A few minute of kissing and she was drenched and squirming. 

“Les,” he rolled again, settling on top of her. “Do you uh…where are your - ”

“I’m on the pill.” 

She pushed up a little and pecked his open jaw. “And I haven’t been with anyone since Mark except you…so I’m…clean.” 

“I…got tested the week after…and I’m good - ”

He yelped when she yanked him down on top of her with a searing kiss. 

Okay, yeah, he definitely would’ve regretted not doing this. 


	14. Rule 21: Pick Someone You Really, Really Like and Want to Be Around

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter is longer and contains HIGH amounts of fluff and silliness.
> 
> The end is nigh! You guys are the best, thank you for sticking with me! <3

Leslie woke up just as the sun was peaking over the horizon on Saturday, her body relaxed and humming and her mind deliciously clear. She stretched through closed lids and it took her a few seconds to fully appreciate her surroundings. The first thing she noticed, however, that definitely jolted her into consciousness, was an empty and chilly left side of the bed. 

She sat upright and squirmed at the stickiness between her thighs she’d been too exhausted to clean up with Ben snoring peacefully beside her. Her bathroom light was off, but she called his name anyway. No answer, and judging from the chill on what had been his side of the mattress, he’d definitely been gone more than a few minutes. Leslie jumped out of bed, throwing on her robe and tearing through the hallway and towards the front door where his car would - hopefully - still be. The first thing she thought of - unwilling - was Mark and the way he’d slunk out of her room and front door and hadn’t even wanted to look her in the eye, and…

A little clatter came from the kitchen and her heart stopped. She exhaled a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.

Ben was there. In her kitchen. Of course he was, she should’ve have known that. Ben really liked her and had made her a list and of course he would still be there.

“Hey,” he grinned crookedly at her, wearing a t-shirt and boxers. “I kind of…helped myself to your fridge. I was going to make you breakfast before you woke up…which was obviously an absurd thing to think I would be able to pull off.”

She crossed the kitchen and slid her arms around his waist, patting his butt while she willed the lump in her throat to dissipate.

“How’d you sleep?”

“Great,” he rubbed her hip and smiled. “I know on the tour we were supposed to go to JJ’s for breakfast first, but it’s kind of crappy out still and I thought I could persuade you to stay here where it’s warm a little longer.”

“Maybe we don’t do the whole tour today.”

His hand slid down her back gently as he used his other to scramble some eggs.

“No?”

“I mean…you’ll…come back, right?”

He tugged on her hair and kissed her softly. “Uh huh.”

“Okay…okay, great. So…” she rubbed his sides. “Maybe…we go to JJ’s for lunch and go see Harvey James Park and…Ramsett, and the Snow Globe Museum, and…” she exhaled and pulled him more snugly against her.

“Mhmmm kay,” his words are muffled into her hair as his fingers press into her arm.

“But, hmm, you drove all the way here to see Pawnee, so I don’t want to shortchange you…”

She trailed off when he started laughing against her ear.

“What’s funny?” 

“Yes, Leslie, I drove all this way to see _Pawnee_ , that’s exactly it.”

He kissed the corner of her mouth and nudged her over towards the coffee pot. Her kitchen was a little…full, but Ben seemed to have found everything he needed and moved around it easily.

“So, you…have a lot of birdhouses.”

“They’re for the birds,” she answered automatically as she got whipped cream out of the fridge. His lips twitched.

“Oh…do you get a lot of birds in your kitchen?”

“Oh, tons.”

“Helping you bake pies and stuff?”

“Right, exactly. Sometimes they help with the sewing too.”

“Of course, and the sewing…” he trailed off as her phone buzzed against the table, where she’d obviously left it after they ate pancakes last night.

“That hasn’t stopped by the way, at seven AM on a Saturday, so that’s pretty impressive.”

“Oh, I get notified every hour until I answer it, so those are probably from last night.”

Ben blinked. “Good lord, doesn’t that drive you insane when you’re trying to…you know what, never mind. I think I just answered my own question.”

She giggled and flipped her phone open. Five texts from Ann, two from Donna (a record), six from Mark (weird, super weird), one from Tom and another from Tom who was speaking on Ron’s behalf and basically wanted to know if the shrimpy man from the state was who he claimed to be.

“Popular.”

“Sort of,” she fired back a quick text to Ann and then pulled up her contact list. “Number, please.”

Ben kissed her nose, handing her a plate of scrambled eggs and toast before taking the phone to key in his number. The dork wrote in _Ben Wyatt - State Auditor - Indianapolis_.

“Are you kidding me?” she waggled it at him. Ben lifted an eyebrow.

“What? No good?”

“That’s…so impersonal!” 

“Uh, last night you wrote _Leslie Knope - Pawnee Parks Department_ in my phone.”

Oh, right. She had done that. Well, she was just being…appropriate!

Although, his penis had been inside of her of a lot, so maybe that was a little…formal.

Ben whipped out his phone and found her name. He hit a few buttons and then displayed the screen to her, taking a bit of his eggs and chewing while she read.

_Leslie Knope - Dating_

She laughed and did the same to his name. Kind of. Only better.

_Ben Wyatt - Super Dating_

He arched an eyebrow and started keying again, murmuring “so competitive” under his breath. 

_Leslie Knope - Exclusively Dating_

Her heart started to pound and she lifted her eyes to his. He gave an inconsequential shrug.

“I mean…if you…only if you wanted to be.”

“I do.” God, when she told Ann about how adorable they were her best friend would probably fake vomit. She changed her phone again.

_Ben Wyatt - Seriously Exclusively Dating_

Ben licked his lips and did something else on his phone.

_Leslie_

Her heart fluttered. That was better, way better actually. She liked that he was going to look at that and know it was her and hopefully feel happy at the prospect of communication. It was a long distance exclusively dating thing…that could be rough.

She changed her contact to read _Ben_ with a smile and he kissed her forehead before going back to his breakfast.

*****

“Th-this…we should p-pause this. Be-because it’s a g-good one.”

She was close - _so close -_ stretched facedown over an armrest of the couch with Ben on his knees behind her and his lips…oh god, _everywhere._ After breakfast they went for a nice walk in Harvey James where they held hands and kissed a lot, and Ben had commented on how great it looked. Though she suspected he wasn’t _quite_ as enamored with the space as she was…

But he was making up for it with a Ken Burns documentary, his lips and his tongue and oh god, she was really going to lose it…

He swirled inside her and flicked while his thumb brushed her clit and she was gone, screaming into the sofa and trembling under his hands. They were kind of messy and it was kind of awesome and dirty and he lifted her gently and murmured she needed a stool as he palmed his dick and bumped against her ass. Ben’s mouth slid up her spine and he nipped gently at her shoulder as he buried himself inside her. They both groaned, fingers digging - hers into the couch and Ben’s into her - as he started to move.

Leslie could safely say she’d never realized how awesome sex was until vacation sex.

Until Ben.

It was the last coherent thought she had when a second orgasm shattered her with Ben right behind her gasping unintelligible things.

******

“Hey there, Leslie,” JJ smiled at her and rapped his knuckles on the table. “Who’s this?”

“Hi JJ!” she beamed back and reached across the table. “This is Ben. It’s his first time in Pawnee.”

“Nice to meet you,” he gave Ben a curt little nod. “What can I get you guys?”

“Coffees and two Leslie specials.”

“What’s a Leslie special?” Ben lifted his head from the menu. “Do I want to know?”

“Waffles with a double order of whipped cream,” JJ turned to Ben. “Anything else for you?”

“Uhh, no,” the corner of his mouth twisted upwards. “Waffles are good.”

God, he was so sexy and adorable and perfect and she still couldn’t believe he was there, sitting in JJ’s across from her with messy hair and swollen lips. When JJ left them he reached over and took her hand. He looked tired, but she’d kept him up pretty late and it had been a busy day. And they were meeting Ann and Parks people at The Bulge later (Leslie’s choice, she was trying to impress Ben after all and she was sort of a gay hero), but he hadn’t complained once.

“You liked the Snow Globe Museum, though?”

“I did, actually. Even though you got us in trouble.”

She cackled. Ben had whispered in her ear he really wanted to shake one and she’d went for it, only to be chastised by security and asked to “Step away from the globes”, which had made her laugh hysterically and Ben snicker uncontrollably.

“Are you excited for your waffles?” she bounced on her side of the booth as their coffee cups were filled. Ben’s thumb pressed her skin a little harder.

“Uh huh.”

“Are you having fun?” Because she needed him to be. She needed Ben to love Pawnee and be happy here because she wanted him to have reason to come back.

“I am having an amazing time,” he brought her knuckles to his lips and smiled. “Best time since our trip and that was the best time I’d had in years, so…”

She gave him a little kiss as they settled back to sip their coffee.

Seriously, she could explode from happiness right now.

*****

Everyone was there already. Normally she was the first to arrived, but…

Okay, they’d had sex again. Leslie had been in a tank top (with _fringe_ on it that she thought made her look like a sexy flapper,) and squirming into her jeans and Ben had yanked her away from the mirror and tossed her on the bed because “ _I just wanted a kiss_ ”.

Yeah, sure Mr. Wyatt, a _horizontal kiss_ with his penis. She saw how this went.

They were late now, and slightly disheveled, but it was super worth it, especially with how relaxed Ben looked at the prospect of re-meeting her City Hall team, except for Ron. Ron did not attend social outings unless she made him.

And he did not go to The Bulge.

“LESLIE!” The bartender, Fred, flashed her a dazzling smile as she strode in with Ben, hands linked. She ordered a Leslie-tini and Ben a beer and he gave her a little look.

“You have a drink named after you?”

“I’m sort of a gay hero.” _See?_ He was totally impressed.

“Of course you are.”

“I married two penguins at the zoo and they happened to be gay, so…” she shrugged easily. “And then when I found out I refused to unmarry them, obviously.”

“Obviously,” his lips were twitching because he was clearly amused. “That’s cute.”

“It was! It was super cute!”

He tugged her in and pecked her mouth.

_Yup, good call on The Bulge._

*****

“Brendanawicz was being super weird about it,” Donna informed her and Ann in the bathroom a little while later. Ben had been recruited to discuss some possible business ventures with Tom and Leslie had saw it a fit time to escape to the bathroom and…gush.

“That’s so lame of him,” Ann declared, cheeks flushed and a red stain on the front of her shirt. Something had spilled when they’d been dancing and she was dabbing it out.

“Something happened with you guys right?”

“She slept with him.”

Donna snorted. “I knew it.”

“How did you…?”

“I have ways,” she cleared her throat and Leslie leaned back against the counter. “So, your boy’s getting all weird and sweaty and Ron comes out and threatens to murder him if he hurts you and then told him where you were. And that boy moved - like _ran_ to his car.”

“Awwwwww,” Ann and Leslie in unison, even though Leslie was fairly certain he only ran because he was afraid of Ron.

Also, _awwww Ron_ , that was so sweet he’d murder for her.

“Was the sex worse?” Ann looked up from blotting her stain. Leslie blinked and Donna snorted.

“Sometimes it is!” Ann declared vehemently. “Because like, the thrill of the…is over and…”

Donna turned to Leslie expectantly and Leslie shook her head.

“No, it’s better.”

She couldn’t explain why, maybe because there was no clock ticking in the back of her head marking the moment when this would all go up in flames. Ann smiled uncertainly but Donna winked.

Mark was there when they emerged from the bathroom, standing talking to Ben and Tom…so that was weird. Leslie squished in beside Ben and gave his butt a little pat. He jolted and pinched her side.

“I got you another…this.”

She grinned and accepted it as Ann pushed in beside her. Ben reached over and placed a drink in front of Ann, who brightened.

“Uh, thanks Ben.”

“Sure,” he gave a little shrug and Mark looked between them.

“So, you guys are…dating.” He glanced between them. “Sorry about yesterday, man. You can’t be too careful and Leslie never uh…mentioned anyone, so…”

Leslie shifted and palmed the small of Ben’s back.

“Maybe not to you , Brendanawicz,” Donna retorted with a little chuff. “Me and the nurse heard all about him.”

She winked and Leslie blushed and tightened her arm around her adorable, sexy, exclusively dating boyfriend. Because that was absolutely true, she’d told Donna and Ann _all_ about him and Mark was kind of being a jerk, which was not cool.

Later, Leslie's adorable, sexy, exclusively dating boyfriend danced with her. To REM and also other, more club-appropriate songs. He was awful, except at slow dancing, which was awesome and perfect and when, after three Leslie-tinis, she shoved him into a corner to make out with his face, she told him as much and Ben just chuckled. He held her hips and palmed her sides, a smile on his lips as her tongue poked between them. He tasted a little like beer mixed with a few sips of her cocktail and it just made her kiss him harder.

“Are you having fun?”

His hand slid up her back, lips grazing her temple. “Uh huh.”

He seemed like he was, honestly. He talked to Tom and even Donna, danced with her and Ann and had relaxed significantly when she kept him close. He was laughing a lot and grinning and he seemed happy…as happy as she was, which was really, really awesome.

When her boyfriend started yawning, Leslie grabbed his butt for a squeeze and then consulted her chart. Ben was a little scandalized, but it was okay because the crowd at The Bulge totally got her and never gave her weird looks or anything.

And it was a really cute butt, who could blame her?

After guesstimating his height and weight Leslie declared him fine to drive and handed over her car keys.

“You’re going?” Ann slurped what was left of her alcohol and straightened. “But…you’ll call me…right?”

Leslie suspected Ann was a little… _hurt_ that Ben had literally dropped everything to come and see her and Chris hadn’t cared to do the same. Leslie hugged her as tightly as she could and rubbed her back.

“Lunch Monday?”

“Sure,” Ann smiled a little tighter than usual. “Sounds great. Have…a good night.”

Leslie hesitated and Ann gave her head a shake.

“Stop. I’m fine, I’m being silly. Go, and I will see you all week. Donna’s here and there’s no one for her to hit on so we might go to another bar or something.”

“We are definitely,” Donna slung an arm around Ann’s neck a little too aggressively. Ann yelped. “Getting out of here. Take your man home, Knope.”

Leslie smiled and waved to Mark and Tom.

“Okay…see you Monday.”

Ben held up the hand holding her keys and gave a little nod, murmuring it was nice to see everyone before leading her outside.

When they made it home and got ready for bed, Leslie leaned into him, his exhaustion seeping into her. It had been a busy day and he was very tired and adorable and she was so, so, beyond words euphoric he was there. They crawled between her chilly sheets and snuggled up together, Ben threading his fingers through her hair and kissing her forehead with a murmured “night”. 

*****

The next day was much of the same - sex, cuddling, hand holding, walks in the park, waffles - and before she knew it, Ben was going home. They were standing at her door, he was wearing his clothes from Friday again and giving her puppy eyes that made her want to climb on top of him and ask him to stay just _one more night._

See? Even in Pawnee, things weren’t that different. 

“So, I’ll…come see you on Friday, okay?”

“Okay.”

Ben sighed and dipped his head for a kiss. “And I will call you - ”

“Tonight, so I know you got back.”

“Of course,” he smiled, not smirked, and squeezed her hands. Leslie stood on tiptoe and pecked his lips. “And tomorrow because that special is on CNN - ”

“- And we should watch it on the phone together.”

Ben sighed again, resting his forehead against hers, hand coming up to cup her cheek.

“This weekend was awesome. Better than our vacation.”

She grinned and they kissed, more teeth than anything, and she squeezed his butt.

Because she could.

“And I will so youuuuuu Friday as well.”

Ben groaned cutely into her neck before pulling away for real and heading out the door. Leslie waited to close it until Ben had backed out of her driveway and sped away, leaving her alone in what was left of their happy bubble.

***** 

On Monday she had lunch with Ann who apologized profusely for seeming so cranky and explained she wasn’t sure what to make of this Chris situation. She liked Chris, but Chris had told her long distance relationships were just too complicated, but he would love to see her again if they were ever in Indianapolis at the same time. 

For about three seconds Leslie wondered whether that was meant to be some sort of warning to her and Ben, but then Ann yanked her hand across the table and her eyes went wide.

“Les, no. I swear. That’s not what I meant at all. I just…I guess wondering why I’m not worth the effort.” She took a breath. “I am so, so happy for you and…you brought a binder to go on vacation and if anyone can make a plan on how to make long distance work it’s you.”

_Oh my god, a binder!_ She hadn’t even _started_ a Operation Long Term Relationship binder yet… Well, that was a project for the evening.

On Tuesday, Ben called sounding weary, but pleased to be talking to her. He told her about some of the meetings he’d had that day and the budget constraints they were operating on and she pictured him on the worn, paisley comforter of some crappy motel room with a warm beer and the news playing in the background.

On Wednesday, he texted her at lunch and said he had a dream about her and couldn’t wait to see her. When she asked what the dream was about he replied with a brief, five word description that captured the moment in perfect, graphic detail and her cheeks turned bright red as she went to the conference room for a meeting. Frequent sexy texts were definitely part of Operation Long Term Relationship.

On Thursday afternoon she texted him the vague details of a super sexy dream she may have made up - she was just trying to keep up! - and waited for his reaction. He called as she was leaving the office and when she got back to her place they kind of…had phone sex? He came and she said she did too, even though that was also kind of a fib. She was slick with arousal, but between cradling the phone against her ear and his staccato voice, something was just…a _little_ weird. Hearing those things when he wasn’t there, in front of her, consuming her in every which way, was just different and they might need to practice it.

That was okay, she was a quick study.

On Friday morning she woke up delirious at the prospect of seeing Ben at the end of the day. And then she got her period.

It was supposed to come…she knew that. But Saturday, exactly two days after her pills stopped which should have meant at least one night of sex with her boyfriend. Also, apparently skipping the last one on vacation had done a number on her because it arrived with a vengeance and she called Ann at 6:39AM to ask if she was dying. Ann had a few questions, and then assured Leslie she was fine and said to call her again in a few hours if things hadn’t improved.

They did, thankfully, though she wasn’t quite a fan of having to be in work that day and kept shifting the waistband of her pants and wishing they had a built in heating pad. Ron seemed to sense she wasn’t herself and suggested she go home early, which she was _not doing,_ Ron should know that. Her eyes welled with tears when Ben’s adorable name lit up her cell phone screen and his text message read _Leaving now_. He was supposed to meet her at City Hall for an amazing mural tour, but it was already after 5PM and she kind of just…wanted to go home.

Crap, maybe she _was_ dying.

When she texted Ben to ask him to meet her at her house instead of City Hall because she was feeling “not great” he seemed to come to the same conclusion, because he arrived in her driveway looking anxious with styrofoam containers and an overnight bag in hand. Leslie was wearing her comfiest pants and a long sleeved t-shirt and she hoped her hair wasn’t the matted mess it felt like it was, because it had only been a week of dating and they couldn’t lose the magic _already_.

She opened the door and his face lit up, which kind of made her heart feel like it was being squeezed.

“Hi.”

“Hey,” he dipped down and kissed her lightly, through a silly grin that briefly made Leslie forget her vagina was bleeding profusely and she felt like she’d been hit by a truck. Their lips met again, a little wetter with open mouths. Ben probably thought she had a cold or something, so it was kind of sweet he was kissing her anyway. He was so sexy in his dark slacks and strange plaid shirt and skinny tie. She was super into his plaid shirt and skinny tie actually, what the hell was that? Was that a thing? How was that totally doing it for her?

His ID badge hung off his pants and that was also _totally_ doing it for her. 

“I brought dinner waffles; I assumed you’d have whipped cream,” he gestured to the containers, setting them on her hall table and winding his arms around her. “Are you sick?”

She pouted, because she was really happy to see her super sexy brand new boyfriend and she couldn’t even find the energy to throw her arms around him as she should. Leslie sighed.

“My period.”

It wasn’t exactly how you wanted to greet your boyfriend, but it was a fact and there was no point in hiding it. Ben’s jaw relaxed in understanding.

“ _Oh_ ,” he rubbed her sides and she breathed _sorry_ which was so stupid, because what was she apologizing for? Being a woman? Ugh, painkillers made her dumb.

“Are waffles…good for that?”

“Waffles are good for everything,” she pulled him towards her and closed the door. It was nice out, but still cool and Ben seemed to radiate heat. Ben slid his arms around her again and kissed her a little harder.

“I missed you.”

“Me too,” she leaned into him. “Thank you for bringing me waffles. I wanted to go on our mural tour but I’m just not…”

Ben grabbed the containers and her hand.

“There will be other days for the tour. Let’s spread out the excitement.”

She grinned because she knew he was serious. He led her into her kitchen, maneuvering around the boxes of Time magazines (which she _had_ tidied a bit since the previous weekend) like he’d been there a thousand times.

“So, since no tour, what would you like to do tonight?”

“Drink wine and watch documentaries and maybe make out a bit.”

“Sounds great.”

It really super was. 

Not that they hadn’t done much talking _before_ , but with sex more or less off the table it was harder to get distracted by his adorable mouth. Leslie heard all of Ben’s thoughts on the Civil War and they sip chilled white wine under one of her handmade quilts and kiss a little with Ben’s hand holding the heating pad snugly against her abdomen. At one point his cell phone rang. He checked the screen and murmured it was his brother. Leslie paused the movie and he checked her face for permission before answering without moving an inch. His arm just curled around her tighter.

“Hey, what’s up?” Ben bit his lip and Leslie snuggled down. It was cozy, she was feeling a little sleepy and his low, scratchy voice was lulling her.

“No, I’m in Pawnee - yes. Hey, bite me,” Ben growled. “Yes,” his fingers slid through her hair. “Yes. Just for…not until next month probably, because…ugh, can we…right here.”

Loud laughter erupted on the other end of the phone.

“Can I call you on Monday or something?” Ben hesitated. “Fine. I - fine,” his forehead nudged hers. “Henry says he can’t _wait_ to meet you.”

Blood rushed to her face and Leslie swallowed. What did _that_ mean?

“Not - dude, I’m not doing that…because that’s…just no. It’s…you’re such a jerk. Fine. Fine. I’ll call you…yes, fine. Goodnight.”

Ben seemed flustered when he tossed his phone to the side. Leslie shifted up and kissed his cheek.

“Okay?”

“Yeah,” he palmed his face. “Yeah, my brother’s just being an asshole. Sorry about that.”

“Are you - ”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine," he squeezed and his eyes fell shut. Leslie pressed her lips along his jaw. 

“Why don’t we watch the rest in bed?” 

Ben agreed with a kiss to her forehead. They dozed off just before midnight, her head pillowed on his chest. For someone so bony, he was a surprisingly excellent pillow.

And for such a crappy start to the day, the end was pretty perfect.

*****

Poor baby, he looked so worn out. By the next morning her cramps had mostly subsided and things were behaving normally and Leslie could appreciate the weariness set on his features. It was early - too early, probably - and her plaid and skinny-tied auditor with an ID badge was now rumpled and scruffy in her bed. She was super into that too. Weekend Ben, that’s what she’d call him. Weekend Ben had a five-o-clock shadow and bags under his eyes that weren’t from being kept up all night talking. Weekend Ben moved a little slower and was cuddly, but still focused. Weekend Ben was the in-between, the transition from state auditor to vacation. Weekend Ben might be her favorite.

Her lips started sliding over him without her brain’s permission, because they just _had_ to kiss him. Because Ben was in her bed and she was wearing his plaid (super soft) shirt and she just couldn’t help herself.

“Mhmmm, babe, go back to sleep,” it came out slurred and silly, but he smiled and patted her butt. Such a sexy, sleepy goofball. She kissed him again and Ben sighed and kissed back a little, murmuring her bed was comfy.

“How’s your motel?” he curled around her and pecked her shoulder.

“Cold and lonely,” his cheek scraped against her. “Can I come back next weekend?”

“Uh huh, I’d love that, I love having you here.”

“Mhmm,” he yawned into her skin and stretched like a lazy cat. “I love you.”

She must’ve tensed, because his fingers tightened against her ribs.

“Shit,” he rolled onto his back and covered his face. “Shit, shit shit.”

“Ben…”

“That’s…fuck, that’s…not…fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“Did you…not mean that?”

“No,” he rubbed his forehead and blushed. “Agghhh, no, I did; that’s the problem.”

“Why…is that…?”

“I’m…that’s too much, right?” he ripped his hands away and studied her, the anxiety on his face evident. “Too much too soon. I really…I am really not trying to freak you out or…I mean, you don’t even know me and that’s…that’s insane. Ugh, god, this is why you can’t wake me up when at six AM on a Saturday - ”

She cut him off with a soft kiss and pressed against his chest. “I… love you too.”

She did. She was at the point where she’d been more or less thinking it but hadn’t wanted to say it because it seemed too early. The point where you think it and then two to four weeks later you finally spit it out when the moment feels right.

Only, Ben had said it and now it didn’t feel right not to. She _had_ thought it and sure, maybe it was kind of superficial love that wasn’t exactly deep in her bones yet, but it was love. She thought about him constantly, was stupidly happy in his company and it just seemed…so, so right. Leslie knew love when she felt it.

Ben’s fingers tightened on her and she glanced up to see his perplexed face. “Really?” He licked his lips. “Are you sure you don’t want to…think about it a little before you say that?”

What an idiot.

“Ben,” she slung her leg over his hips and draped across his front. “I love you. I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it.”

And then they’re kissing, slow and thoughtful between her excited squeaks and his breathy groans. Leslie sat back and Ben followed, tugging her legs around his waist and swinging his feet to the floor.

“Shower?” he nipped at her lower lip and suckled.

_Mhmmmm_ her boyfriend she was definitely in love with had _the best_ ideas.


	15. Epilogue

“I’m going to be bored.” 

“Leslie, it’s Maui. You are not going to be bored, I promise. We’ll hike some volcanos and go SCUBA diving and - ”

“You’re sounding like Chris.”

“And we have a few days in Honolulu and you know you’ll spend at least one of those at Pearl Harbor. And you’ll probably spend a day buying presents for everyone and you’ll want to go shopping with Ann and…”

“I only brought one idea binder, what am I supposed to do about - !”

A loud laugh erupted across the room, his teeth tugging at his cute bottom lip in amusement.

“One idea binder in your suitcase and then, oh hey, do you happen to know how two more got into _my_ suitcase and then another one in my carry-on?”

“You didn’t bring that many clothes! There was room!”

She’d spent the night at his place in Indianapolis and maybe he’d been in the shower after work and she’d _casually_ slipped those into his suitcase while she painted her toenails and waited to go to dinner. Her suggestion of a productive work vacation where Ben came to Pawnee and they brainstormed projects the whole time was promptly vetoed and Maui had been deemed acceptable by her.

Plus, she got to see his cute butt in a bathing suit so that was kind of a super big plus.

“Honey,” Ben settled on the bed and held out his arms. She went to him easily, her cheeks hurting from smiling so much. Because even if she was a little bored at some point, her sexy boyfriend and his adorable mouth and giant hair were sitting on _their_ kingsized bed for the week, with an incredible view of the Pacific Ocean…and he had already confirmed they did in fact get C-SPAN.

Ben’s palms cupped the back of her thighs and he pulled he into his lap, face in her chest.

“Also, we’re going to have a lot of sex, so that’ll kill some time.” 

“ _Mhmmmm_ ” that she definitely wanted to do. That was the downside of Ben travelling so much for his job, he wasn’t always living near her and a whole ten days of sharing a bed was going to be bliss. Just knowing she could roll over every morning and he would be there was all she really wanted for their romantic getaway…plus Ann and Chris.

“What time did we say dinner?”

“We’re meeting them in the lobby at quarter to seven.”

Ben kissed her shoulder and helped her wiggle out of the jacket she’d worn on the plane. They both sighed when it landed on the floor and his palms slid up under her tank top. She’d barely stopped touching him since they met at his apartment the day before because he’d been up in Gary, Indiana and she hadn’t seen him - love of her life, man of her dreams - in almost six weeks. His palms were hot as they pressed into her and his lips glided across her collarbone with just a sliver of urgency.

“You got the list?” he kissed down her throat as Leslie twisted to try and remember where she’d put it.

“Uh huh,” she exhaled. “But I also really missed just - ”

“Bed first,” he flipped her, spreading her out over the mattress and pressing his face to her neck. God, he knew her so well. He knew she needed sweet, simple connecting with him before they moved to _the list._ The list was a fun bonus but Ben was what she needed. All she needed. 

“I missed you so much,” his voice broke and it almost broke her too. Leslie smiled softly and palmed his cheek. She at least had home and friends and the greatest city in America and he didn’t. He had motel rooms she tried her best to doctor up so they looked like they belonged to Ben, and Chris for company and her. 

Unwittingly, she flashed back to one of the first conversations they’d ever had. Where he’d confessed to not really missing his ex-girlfriend that much when he’d been travelling. Ben whispered he missed her all the time, even when he was with her he missed her because he knew she wouldn’t be there soon. She wasn’t sure if he was going out of his way to prove whatever they had was different, but it was certainly working. He always made her feel special.

Long distance sucked. She would do it forever to be with him, but it sucked.

“I missed you too, Ben.”

He sighed and slumped against her. Leslie laughed quietly and rubbed his back.

“Jet lag hitting you?”

“Nope. I just want to cuddle you.”

As if he hadn’t spend the entire night before wrapped around her, long fingers stroking the curve of her hip. As if he hadn’t dozed off in the airport with his head on her shoulder and her fingers in his hair. As if they hadn’t disgustingly curled around each other under the same blanket on the flights.

“Hey, you didn’t tell me where’s next.”

“They didn’t tell us yet,” he rubbed his scruff over her collarbone and exhaled, pressing his lips lightly across her skin, not rushing now. She’d always been the type to try and race towards the finish during sex, but not these days. These days foreplay began with the most innocuous of touches and easy, whispered conversation and could spend forever trying to progress to something more.

And it was so worth it, never not worth it. Her skin still sparked wherever it came in contact with his and a simple look from Ben was enough to make her insides twist with desire. Making dinner, watching movies, out and about with other people, Ben found little ways to make contact and by the time they made it to bed she was always throbbing for him.

“I’m worried about Ann,” it came out as his lips brushed across the little patch of bare stomach revealed by her tank top. Ben grunted and propped up on one elbow, ghosting his fingers over.

Ann had been dating a lot of different guys over the last year, but she still seemed fairly hung up on Chris - hooking up with him whenever they were both in the same place - Leslie suspected her beautiful best friend was in denial about wanting more than that.  It was super obvious she _really_ liked this guy.

But Chris was an expert at living in the moment and only in the moment, which was admirable, but it meant he never walked away pining for Ann as far as she could tell…

Which was ridiculous. As if he was ever going to do better than the most amazingly beautiful, effervescent sea turtle in the entire world. He should be so lucky. She should murder him for hurting Ann’s feelings. 

“Leslie,” Ben murmured gently. “Ann’s an adult, it was her decision to come with Chris and she knows how this is going to go by now…”

“I know,” Leslie sighed and ran her fingers through his hair. Ben had pinched her lightly last time she threatened to murder his partner for hurting her best friend. “Chris just…”

“He does this. He dates people and has an amazing time and then goes to the next town or on the next trip and has an amazing time with a new person. That’s…how he is. Everything is an amazing time.”

He kissed her wrist as her fingers continued to slide across his scalp. Ben rested his head to her chest.

“Chris likes Ann, he just…kind of likes everyone,” he nuzzled. “Unlike me who likes nobody but you.”

She snorted, because he was such a goof and that was totally untrue.

“This self-deprecating crap is getting old, Wyatt.”

He chuckled softly and scooted up to kiss across her throat. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Seriously. Down to her bone marrow, with every thrum of her pulse and every fiber of her being, she loved him. 

“I miss you.”

“I miss you too.”

“I don’t want to see you once every couple of weeks anymore,” he lifted his head, bleary eyes now serious. “I hate… I hate that I don’t see you every day.”

“That’s your job though, honey.”

“I hate my job.”

“Ben,” she pushed up onto her elbows. He rolled off her, but left a hand on her stomach.

“No, I’m serious. I mean, I like crunching numbers but I hate…the rest of it. So, I was,” he kissed her bare shoulder and sighed into the skin, as if that alone was enough to make him forget the reasons he likes being on the road.

“I was…I was wondering if there might be room in our idea binder for a night or some time where we maybe just go for a long walk and talk about…this,” he gestured between them with one long finger. “Us. Being together where I’m not…living in a motel, I’m living with you.” 

“I…” Leslie squeezed her eye shut, because this conversation was never easy, no matter how great relationships were. “I don’t…Pawnee is my home.”

“I know,” he bumped his lips against her temple. “I know that. That’s why I thought maybe we could discuss…some options that would be acceptable to both of us. I would just very much like to be with you.”

“Me too.” Leslie daringly thought she might even be okay with leaving Pawnee for a little while if it meant being with Ben.

He grinned that cute smile he reserved just for her. The one she vividly remembered seeing for the first time on the last trip they took together. when she softly thanked him for staying with her while she puked on the boat.

“Okay,” he rubbed his mouth, as if he was trying to tamp down on his enthusiasm. “Okay, great, so we’ll…”

Leslie yanked him on top of her and kissed him soundly. “Talk about it. Figure it out. Later though. Shut up. I’m trying to hookup with my crazy sexy boyfriend.”

Ben nodded, nuzzling her neck and pressing fluttery kisses along her skin that made her stomach drop deliciously. His hands plucked her clothing from her body, sending it flying across the room in every direction before she was naked in the middle of the bed and Ben was dragging his tongue across the crest of her thigh.

“You game for this?” he pressed his nose to her curls and a shudder rolled through her.

Always. She was always game for that, as was he.

That’s why it was number one in the binder.

Leslie might not be that great at casual sex, but why did she even need to be? 

She had Ben and that was better than anything else. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I cannot express to you how overwhelming the response to this story has been. Thank you SO SO SO SO much for sticking with me on this and reading and sharing your thoughts and feelings. I had so much fun writing this because of all of you and I hope this was a satisfying conclusion. 
> 
> You are all beautiful, effervescent tree sharks. <3 <3 <3


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